


Winter

by Apenootje



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged up characters, Ballet Dancer Yuri, Cheating, Freeform, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Questionable Consent, alternative universe, emotional abuse?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-04-17 20:52:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 47,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14197464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apenootje/pseuds/Apenootje
Summary: The spell was broken, Otabek reached out again to help sorting the last of the groceries before jumping up, hugging his own, slightly damp, paper bag to his chest.“I am so sorry.” He mumbled quickly, “Please, let me replace whatever is squashed.”But the man just glared at him. “Don’t have the bloody time.” He hissed, checking his watch. “I am already late for practice.”“Then let me make it up to you in another way. Let me buy you a drink.”The words were out before Otabek could think about how they would sound, a blush creeping up to his neck. But the man did not laugh at him, he seized him up instead. His blue-green eyes wandering from his face to his legs, making Otabek blush even more, before the tiniest of smiles broke on the stranger’s lips.“Deal, how about next week?”





	1. Chapter 1

Otabek mentally cursed the alarm that howled through the, up until that point, silent room. He slapped it a couple time to shut it off, hoping that the last wisps of his dream would not leave him, but life would not let him slip away again. 

A soft, slender hand on his naked shoulder, a couple of gentle shakes. A kiss on his skin. 

“Otabek, wake up! Don’t you hear the alarm?”  
The voice was gentle and loving. Otabek knew that if he would open his eyes he would gaze into a broad smile. He made sure to keep them squeezed shut.

“I will get up in a bit. Its Friday.” he groaned instead, hoping that she would leave. 

Friday was their day off, a day they had both decided on when they got married. For her in hope they would both go to the mosque, for him just a day off to keep his sanity and relax. He never intended to go with her, had made sure to tell her, but still she tried. Stubborn as a mule. 

“We will be late for the sermon! Get up Otabek Altin!” her voice held a childish giggle, as if she hoped that a sluggish mind would make him accept something he never would when he was awake. She tried to actively trick him, but he was not that far gone.

A yawn opened his mouth before words could, and he snuggled closer in the pillow he was hugging. His eyes still closed.

“The only appointment I have is at the grocery store. And they aren’t in a hurry. I will see you tonight Inkar.” 

For a moment it was eerily quiet. The calm before the storm it seemed, as if she was readying herself for battle. He opened one eye in curiosity. She was standing next to the bed, her ink black wavy hair hidden under a white hijab, her deer like chestnut brown eyes squinted to slits and her arms crossed. They stared each other down for a bit, but in the end she let out a weary sigh and left. The door slammed shut behind her, dampening her muttered words. Silence took her place to Otabek’s pleasure. He curled back up, closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep for as long as fate would allow him. 

The next time he opened his eyes it was eleven o’clock. His stomach growled loudly, giving him enough reason to get up. His body was stiff and uncomfortable, his head heavy. He knew he had slept for too long. But it was his guilty pleasure. It was so much easier to sleep then be awake. 

The emptiness of the abandoned apartment that greeted him was familiar. Inkar would be with her friends all day, gossiping and complaining about him and other husbands most likely. But as long as he made sure to keep his side of the bargain, at least his wife would not go off against him in person. The only things he was expected to do was making sure his dishes were in the dishwasher after breakfast and the towels were in the laundry basket after his showers. 

People had called him his wives lapdog, because of it, but Otabek was not bothered by it: better a lapdog then have an angry wife and fight every evening. Besides he did not think she asked an excessive amount of work she prided herself in doing most of it anyway. It did not bother him to help with the few things she did ask, especially not on his day off. So he snatched the list pasted on the fridge and scanned it, before grabbing his keys and setting out. If he got back quick he would be able to get some reading done and really enjoy his day. While he did not mind getting groceries, he could not deny he preferred spending it inside. 

It was a beautiful July day in Boston, the heat brought out the smells of flowers and trees on the sidewalks as he passed the redbrick homes of his neighbors. Cars and chatter a buzzing background noise as the city and its inhabitants moved around him, but Otabek was too lost in thoughts to really notice. His mind was spinning around a lot of basic things; his job, birthdays coming up, what book to read. Just general static noise taking over his mind, never clearing for a moment while walking to the grocers and doing his things. Houses and anything else passing by in a blur, his gaze straight ahead, but his eyes unseeing.  
A crash with a stranger was unavoidable. One moment he was getting out of the shop walking the streets back, the other he was on the pavement in a mess of eggs, tomatoes and milk. 

“Watch where you’re going. For fucks sake!” The man he had crashed into cried out, then switched to a stream of spiced Russian, muttering things about assholes not being able to watch where they went and what not.

Otabek jumped to his feet straight away, ducking to grab his own stuff and helping the stranger as well, repeating apologies all the while. The words switched to Russian without him really noticing. He was too surprised to hear his second language being spoken so fluently. 

The man was startled as well, stopping his movements abruptly to stare at him. Otabek looked up in reaction, locking eyes with him for the first time. They knocked the air out of Otabek’s lungs. They were intense, blue turning to green in the sunlight, before fading back to blue again as the stranger tilted his face. A model could not compare, neither with the most elegant of bone-structures nor the almost golden blonde hair that framed it all. Angelic almost.

“You speak Russian?” the man asked, confusion in his voice and a frown on his face. They were still crouched on the pavement. The stranger held a carton of juice in his hand, Otabek a pack of crumbling biscuits. He was staring, he knew that, but he could not look away. It also took him a few tries to comprehend what was asked. Until the man frowned, startling Otabek into words. 

“Y-yes, I-I am from Kazakhstan. It’s a common language there.”

The man wrinkled his nose. “I know that, stupid. Ugh, look at this mess.”

The spell was broken, Otabek reached out again to help sorting the last of the groceries before jumping up, hugging his own, slightly damp, paper bag to his chest. 

“I am so sorry.” He mumbled quickly, “Please, let me replace whatever is squashed.”

But the man just glared at him. “Don’t have the bloody time.” He hissed, checking his watch. “I am already late for practice.”  
“Then let me make it up to you in another way. Let me buy you a drink.”

The words were out before Otabek could think about how they would sound, a blush creeping up to his neck. But the man did not laugh at him, he seized him up instead. His blue-green eyes wandering from his face to his legs, making Otabek blush even more, before the tiniest of smiles broke on the stranger’s lips. 

“Deal, how about next week?”

Otabek did not know what was happening, did not know where his courage came from, but smiled either way. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest. He did not want to know what his face looked like at that moment. 

“I… Y-yes. S-Sure, let me give you my number.” He wasted no time, writing it down on a part of his paper bag and after ripping it off tucking it with the man’s groceries. 

“Good, now get out of my way. As I mentioned before I am in a hurry.”

The man brushed past him, walking in the opposite direction as Otabek had come from. His blonde hair caught the light as it moved in the breeze.  
His jeans seemed to be painted on him, his tank top open at the sides. With every step he took he flashed Otabek a bit of the pale skin of his back, a grace and confidence in his step that showed that he was used to being watched. 

It took Otabek a while for him to realize that he was staring. A voice whispered in the back of his mind, but he did not want to listen, he knew what it was going to say. Instead he feverishly pushed it away, shaking his head to snap out of the spell, and stepped back into the grocers again to replace the eggs that had broken. His mind fuzzed over once more, but with a change, where before he had been thinking about a million things this time he only focused on one: an angel of a man, cranky as an old man who could walk like he could stop an army on his own. 

Otabek was intrigued, their conversation was stuck in the back of his mind for the rest of the day until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After months of working, I am finally sort of ready to start this story. I'm so happy, and also really nervous... but let's ignore that.
> 
> A few notes:  
> 1\. I am not a native speaker. I do my best, but as this is written without a Beta of any sort it means that there will be flaws, typo's etc, please keep that in mind.  
> 2\. I've never had the time to watch the anime, yes shame on me, so the characters might be butchered. Please don't kill me...  
> 3\. There are a lot of subjects in here that I do not know enough of to write about, but that I felt too important to ignore. One of them is Islam. It seemed weird for a man from a country with a huge Muslim population to have no connection with Islam at all. I've solved it this way, but as I am not a Muslim myself some stereotyping is bound to happen. I apologize in advance.  
> 4\. I don't know how to tag shit even if my life depends on it, so tag suggestions are very welcome.  
> 5\. This story is almost finished in draft. The only things I have to do is edit the chapters and add some things. I have no upload schedule in mind, because of life, but I am planning to post at least once a week or once every two weeks. There will most likely be 30 chapters, but I might add a few deleted scenes if I feel like editing them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His beautiful eyes were closed and his face was angled to the sun, looking casual but at the same time like he had walked out of a photoshoot. Especially when he opened one eye as he heard Otabek walk towards him. A smug grin was on his lips as he eyed Otabek just as openly as Otabek had him. 
> 
> “Finally showing up eh?” the man mumbled, pushing himself gracefully of the wall, and walking a few steps towards him, as Otabek walked up to him. 
> 
> “Nice machine.”
> 
> Otabek grinned back, noting how slight the height difference between them actually was. While the man had felt like he could tower over him when they first met, he was actually half a head shorter. It was his eyes and posture that made him so impressive and intimidating. 
> 
> “Thank you. I’m Otabek.” He stretched out his hand dying to finally find out who his mystery man was. 
> 
> The grip on his hand was powerful as the man shook it, the mischievous smirk still on his face.
> 
> “Yuri, Yuri Plisetsky. Well, let’s get going. I am melting.”

The week passed by at a snail’s pace. He kept circling around Inkar, waking up in the same bed every morning, eating at the same table and giving her empty kisses on the cheek before leaving for work only to do the same routine when they returned in the opposite order. Always physically close, but mentally fighting to get away, until he fell asleep to the sound of her breathing, her head a heavy weight on Otabek’s chest, giving him a few hours of mental freedom before the routine started again. 

It pressed on him. The walls seemed to come down on him, the rooms to small, and his lungs seemed to be unable to fill with air. Yet he acted all the same, as if there was nothing wrong. He greeted neighbors and coworkers, helped customers in the bookshop, and went back home, to have it all begin again in the morning. 

An endless circle that seemed to have no escape route. 

He had only received one text from his mystery guy when Friday finally popped up on the calendar. The message told him to be at one, of the many, Starbucks in the center of Boston at 1 pm. He had answered it with a short “I will be there”, but had not send anything else, unsure of what to say or what to think. The idea of him having given the man the wrong idea drove him slightly crazy. But most of all he was unsure of his own motives, with the voice whispering in the back of his head driving him to insanity. 

Needless to say, he was a bundle of nerves that Friday. Sleep had been short and restless during the night before, he had been awake more than he was not. Frozen underneath the sheets to not wake Inkar who was splayed on his chest, sleeping deeply and content. It took a long time before she finally moved, and Otabek took no time to get up after. He had already finished half a cup of tea smelling of spices and had labored through a couple of chapters, his mind to focused on slowing his rapidly beating heart and preventing throwing up from nerves to focused on the seemingly jumbled words, when he heard his wife stir. He had expected her to come in for a while already, as her routine had been unchanged since the second day of their marriage. With her waking just before dawn arrived to pray, as it was peeking through the windows at that very moment. She on the other hand looked as if she had seen a ghost. Then suddenly a bright smile lit up her face. Hope. There was so much hope. Otabek could not help but pinch the bridge of his nose in weariness as he knew, and feared, what would come. He did not have to wait for long for her to mumble the words he did not want to hear. 

“You’re up early. Will you pray with me?”

His wife had a sweet smile on her face, her gaze friendly and mellow from sleep. It fell when Otabek shrugged without really looking at her, his body felt too weary to do anything else, and his mind debated whether to ignore her. In the end he decided that her anger would not be worth it. She would get his attention no matter what the cost. He could better save himself more exhaustion. 

“Couldn’t sleep, but don’t let me destroy your routine. I will wait in the bedroom.”

He moved to get up, to escape, but she grabbed his arm and pushed him back. When he finally looked her directly in the eye. She just laughed soft and gently, while her hand petted his cheek and her lips pressed a kiss on his. He felt like a cat wanting to claw his way out, shoving her away. His body however was frozen. 

“Silly man. Just stay. Allah will like the interest you show.”

Otabek did not even consider correcting her or fighting her. Instead he sat down again and watched as she started to recite Quran verses and preformed rituals he was familiar with. Like people were with a distant cousin. Seen them once, sort of remember their face, but not enough to actively have a conversation with them. Instead he just stared at the colorful miniature painting on the wall, a replica of an Asian hero story, a souvenir from a holiday to Pakistan, instead, while she bend down to the floor and muttered. The words forming a buzz as he closed his eyes and returned to taking deep breaths to calm his pulse. 

Inkar was staring at him when he opened his eyes again. He could almost touch the curiosity in her eyes, and the hope. The hope that he had actually prayed, the hope that he would talk to her about it. The hope he would join her at the mosque. It shattered when he got up instead to walk into the kitchen more focused on stretching his stiffened limbs until he heard something pop then his wife’s attention. 

The silence settled between them, heavy and suffocating, but most of all familiar. He knew she wanted him to talk, to give her the cues to talk, but he could not find the words. Nor did he really want to. It had been that way since he could remember, most of the time it was because Inkar who felt the need to fill the room with empty chitchat. People were getting married, birthdays to celebrate, holidays to plan, but Otabek only listened and mumbled “yes dears” and “no dears” when needed. 

He preferred the silence, because he did not feel like paying attention. 

Time slipped past slowly. It was about twelve when he finally got up to leave. Inkar had already left earlier for the mosque, her hair in a blush pink hijab, her eyes bright with excitement. It seemed as if she too had been dying to escape the heavy atmosphere in the room. She had pressed a quick kiss to his hair and had rushed out of the door taking the awkwardness and discomfort with her. The air seemed to weigh less on his shoulders, making way for nerves that made his hands tremble when he shaved, and his leg bounce when he tried to stall by watching television. 

He stalled and he stalled. But all the waiting in the world would not make the nerves die down. His insides did not feel like they would disentangle anytime soon. So he gave up and left, snatching his keys of the table and making his way down flights of steps to get his motorcycle. 

It was hot, the sun was beating down on his back when he stepped out. Just pushing the machine out of the doors and to the street was enough to have sweat trickle down his back, it soaked the tight black tee he was wearing. Otabek was glad to have decided against the heavy leather protective clothes, even if Inkar would kick him if she saw it, or at least shout. He did put on the black helmet that hung from the handlebar though, then shoved down the face shield, kicked the machine to life and took off. 

Traffic in the city center was heavy, he had to weave between cars and buses, narrowly avoiding crashes. People shouted at him as they flashed by, calling names. Besides those little issues the drive was pleasant. The sun warmed his muscles and the breeze made sure he did not overheat. He finally felt himself relaxing, the last of the tension of the morning and nerves melting away as he sped up. 

He ended up being half an hour early, but to his surprise the mystery man had beat him to it. 

The man was leaning against the windows of the coffee shop, one leg bent at the knee, foot resting against the window, the other straight. His hands were hidden in the pockets of his torn jeans, on top of it he wore a loose, airy white tee-shirt that showed his collarbones. His beautiful eyes were closed and his face was angled to the sun, looking casual but at the same time like he had walked out of a photoshoot. Especially when he opened one eye as he heard Otabek walk towards him. A smug grin was on his lips as he eyed Otabek just as openly as Otabek had him. 

“Finally showing up eh?” the man mumbled, pushing himself gracefully of the wall, and walking a few steps towards him, as Otabek walked up to him. 

Otabek grinned back, noting how slight the height difference between them actually was. While the man had felt like he could tower over him when they first met, he was actually half a head shorter. It was his eyes and posture that made him so impressive and intimidating. 

“Thank you. I’m Otabek.” He stretched out his hand dying to finally find out who his mystery man was. 

The grip on his hand was powerful as the man shook it, the mischievous smirk still on his face. 

“Yuri, Yuri Plisetsky. Well, let’s get going. I am melting.” He walked out in front of him, showing Otabek the intricate braiding in his hair. It made him smile again, remembering the way his mother would do a similar style to his little sister. But where hers had made the little girl look cute, this one gave an elegant finish to this man. 

“A caramel Frappuccino please.” Yuri told the girl behind the counter, glancing at him over his shoulder on eyebrow raised in question. 

“And a Chai, please” he added, receiving a disgusted look from Yuri who muttered some Russian under his breath while Otabek specified the size of his order. Something that sounded like “Tea drinkers, yuck.” 

He was surprised into a snort, the last of his nerves disappearing into thin air, while shaking his head in disbelieve. Yuri did not notice, he slapped some money on the counter and grabbed his drink, leading him to the tables without looking over his shoulder. Otabek followed after adding his own payment. It was busy for a Friday, summer break was probably in full swing or something. The seats were taken by high schoolers and businessmen on break tapping away on laptops. Yuri marched right passed them without looking up, dumping himself in a booth in the far corner. The efficiency of his movements showed that he was used to installing himself in that spot, as he dumped his jacket, grabbed his phone from his pocket and placed it on the table in one fluent motion, before leaning his elbows on the surface and cradling his paper cup with both hands. 

“Blessed, blessed coffee.” The man muttered, taking a sip of what had to be scalding liquid. It was. He flinched almost immediately, sticking out his tongue with a frown on his face. “Damn, have to stop doing that.” 

Otabek chuckled, mirroring Yuri’s stance after he had sat down a bit more carefully then Yuri had. He also did not follow the man’s eagerness but waited for his tea to cool a bit instead. 

“How can you even drink a sugar bomb like that? I can feel my teeth rot from just the smell.” He mumbled, shaking his head in disbelieve. 

Yuri did not skip a beat, taking another, slightly more careful, sip. “Years of practice, plus I need the sugar if I want to survive training.”

“What do you do?” 

Another smug smile. True pride sparkling in his eyes. “I am a lead for the Boston Ballet company. Wouldn’t guess that huh?” 

He thought about it for a bit, seizing the man up once again, encouraged by Yuri’s cockiness. His lean but strong build, and moreover the elegant way of movement. Plus the way he styled himself, like he took special care of himself. A hum rose in the back of his throat. 

“Actually, no I had not thought of it that much. But now you say so. Yes, I can see it.”

A blush formed on Yuri’s pale cheeks, blowing Otabek back a bit. He had actually flattered this ball of confidence. It was cute, and he could not help but feel pride in achieving it.

“What do you do?” 

Otabek made sure to keep a straight face when the man obviously tried to ignore his remark. Instead he let his eyes wander idly for a bit, checking out the Business men stretching their lunch break late or working on silver laptops with cellphones plastered to their ears, and high school girls chatting away with friends. 

“I work in a bookshop. It’s quite fun, but not as excited as being a lead ballet dancer I guess. I suppose it is hard work?”

“It is, it is a full time job, but very worth it.” A short pause. “Now tell me Otabek. Do you usually ask random guys for a drink?” 

Yuri’s eyes sparkled mischievously as he turned the tables, a Cheshire cat grin on his face. Otabek flushed in embarrassment, the nerves he thought he had lost returning to him in seconds. Yuri was like a storm whipping him around the ears every time when he thought it had been lulled. He coughed and took a sip of his tea to stall, but there was only so much one could do with a man like this, who knew the effect he could have, and seemingly loved to play with prey. 

“No, not usually.” He finally mumbled, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He was surprised of his own steady voice. “Then again I don’t usually crash into people like that either. It felt like I needed to say sorry properly. I hope you weren’t too bruised up after?” 

A loud, warm, laugh came from Yuri’s throat, his eyes scanning his surroundings a bit while he leaned back on the leather seat. 

“I am used to worse. Crashing to the floor while dancing gets you some nice leopard patterns once in a while. Don’t worry about it.” 

“I will try.”

They sat talking like that until long after their initial drinks had been gone, swapping one subject for another. They talked of pets, Yuri had a beloved cat, motorcycles and books. Yuri told him he never read, that he did not have the focus, but admitted that he listened to audiobooks when he saw the horrified face Otabek had not been able to hide.   
Eventually Otabek felt a warmth settle he had not felt in ages, not since moving to Boston from New York when he got married, cutting all ties with friends he had for years. Interaction with Yuri, after getting rid of the initial nerves and awkwardness, just went amazingly smooth. Even when the man sometimes sounded like a grumpy grandpa. 

The hours passed too quick, two cups of coffee and tea had been finished and the clock had struck three before either of them noticed. When they finally did Yuri got up straight away, announcing that he had to go and thanking Otabek for the afternoon. The man was on his feet before Otabek could make up a response, gathering his things quickly and lifting two fingers in greeting before almost jogging out the door. Otabek stared at the braid in his hair as he disappeared, baffled by his sudden change in his afternoon. As if it was a dream, as if Yuri had never been there. Some part of him expected the man to return, laughing as if it had been a joke. 

But the man did not come back. Otabek waited for fifteen minutes, but there was no sign of him anywhere. So he left as well, tired of waiting, grabbing his helmet and walking to his motorcycle. He glanced around one final time as he mounted, but he saw no sign of braided blond hair. There was no other option then shake his head in astonishment and admit his defeat as he kicked the machine to life and took off. 

Inkar glared at him the moment he came through the door, scolding him for not wearing the proper protective clothes, as he had expected, and demanding an explanation for his disappearance. He brushed her off instead and walked straight past her into the shower to get rid of the sweat of the day. Her voice chasing him until he closed the door.

She was still waiting for him when he stepped out, clean, dry and dressed. Her eyes in slits and her mouth puckered as if she tasted something sour. There were no words however, she simply held out their groceries list and pointed at the door in silent command. He took it without arguing and left, walking the same route as he had done the week prior. All the while he secretly hoped to crash into a certain person again. But no such luck, there was no sign of Yuri or his golden hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the second chapter. I had wanted to post this last Friday, but life got in the way, and editing took much more time then I had expected (and I'm still not 100% happy, but if I was aiming for perfection I would never post anything) 
> 
> I am not sure when the next chapter will be online, I was considering posting twice a week, as I would be posting for 30 weeks if I would not, but like I said, life got in the way, and will get in the way. So I am not deciding on any upload days. Just expect one chapter a week, sometimes two if I have the time. 
> 
> Thank you for reading~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He arrived exactly at noon, bought a cup of chai and dropped himself at the same booth as before. It busy again, or perhaps still. Girls were giggling with other girls, people tapping away at laptops. It was a wall of static noise closing in on him and he loved it, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy the wall of sound.
> 
> When he opened them again he almost jumped. The seat opposite his was taken. 
> 
> “Waiting for someone?” Yuri teased, taking a sip of what Otabek guessed was a sugar bomb. His hair was once more braided like a crown, and again a lose shirt was on his shoulders, it was a tank top this time, open at the sides, showing Otabek some pale white skin. 
> 
> A blush crept up Otabek’s cheeks as he tried to stop staring. This was so stupid. On the one hand he had hoped for Yuri to be there, that he played ignorant did not mean he was a fool, but now he did not want to admit it. He stumbled, mouth opening and closing to find words, but not finding any. 
> 
> It earned him a mischievous grin, the man taking another sip of sugar coffee. 
> 
> “I will take that as a yes. How was your week?”

The week passed with him staring more and more longingly at his phone. He wanted to get in touch, wanted to text Yuri, but did not have the guts nor knew the right words. It drove him crazy, and not just him. Inkar asked him about it as well, multiple times even. Her eyes squinted to slits, and her hands on her hips. He lied that he expected a phone call from work in a reflex. 

Lying felt wrong, but this was his secret. It felt like he finally had something to enjoy, a little treasure he did not feel like sharing, something he wanted to keep his wife out of. A silly thought he realized, perhaps even hurtful that he was so distrusting. Luckily she never pressed, never made him spit up the lie, made him hurt her. Instead she left him to stare at his phone again and again as the week progressed. 

No call nor text came however. On Friday morning he was still waiting. The fluffy sheets his wife had bought years ago framed him as he laid spread eagle on his back, his eyes on the ceiling of the empty bedroom, his phone in his hand. Inkar had already left for the mosque, having tried to convince him to come with her again. The weekly discussion was at the same time familiar and highly annoying, an annoyance that did not seem to want to get out of his blood. He felt restless even as he laid still. Agitation combining with anticipation. He wanted to do something, but he was not sure what. In the end he just grabbed his helmet and keys and drove in a straight line to the same Starbucks as the week before. 

He arrived exactly at noon, bought a cup of chai and dropped himself at the same booth as before. It busy again, or perhaps still. Girls were giggling with other girls, people tapping away at laptops. It was a wall of static noise closing in on him and he loved it, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy the wall of sound.

When he opened them again he almost jumped. The seat opposite his was taken. 

“Waiting for someone?” Yuri teased, taking a sip of what Otabek guessed was a sugar bomb. His hair was once more braided like a crown, and again a lose shirt was on his shoulders, it was a tank top this time, open at the sides, showing Otabek some pale white skin. 

A blush crept up Otabek’s cheeks as he tried to stop staring. This was so stupid. On the one hand he had hoped for Yuri to be there, that he played ignorant did not mean he was a fool, but now he did not want to admit it. He stumbled, mouth opening and closing to find words, but not finding any. 

It earned him a mischievous grin, the man taking another sip of sugar coffee. 

“I will take that as a yes. How was your week?”

“I-I…” 

Yuri rose an eyebrow at him, the grin turning in a mocking smile. Otabek forced himself to stop, to take a breath to get over the shock and try again. 

“I… Uneventful. Got up. Went to work, got home, ate, slept, repeat.” He finally managed. 

The man looked at him as if he was out of his mind, a moment of tension as Otabek felt his stomach knot when anticipating the answer. The very theatrical yawn took him by surprise. 

“Booooooring.” 

Otabek was startled into a snort, then shook his head before taking a sip. The tension and unease had been broken that easily.

“You can say that again. How about you?”

The man shrugged, leaning on his hand and glancing around lazily. 

“Just as usual I guess. Getting up, train all day, go home. Sleep. Back again.”

“And you call my life boring.”

His remark got him a cold glare that gave Otabek goosebumps, Yuri’s lips hovering on the rim of his cup. 

“You try it for a day then come see me. You will be begging for mercy.” The joke could not hide the cold in his voice. Otabek took note. 

“Sorry.” Otabek smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck in an attempt to divert the attention. He waited for Yuri to yell at him. It seemed as if he would, as he had taken a breath of air to start, but in the end he simply shook his head slowly and dropped it. Instead he puckered his lips a little before changing the subject to something less volatile. Otabek followed him willingly into calmer water, releasing the breath he had not realized he’d held, then joined in as the subjects lead them back into the rhythm of the week before. As if their conversation had never been interrupted. 

This time the opening theme was music. They found out that their tastes were very different. Yuri was very into classical but also in alternative kind of music while Otabek usually stuck to the general music from the radio, but could listen to almost everything. From music they flowed into childhoods, life in Russia and Kazakhstan, followed by adapting when they arrived into the states. They were very different on that subject as well. Yuri had seen it as an adventure, as if he was released. Finally he could be who he really was, he could dance, he could grow. Otabek on the other hand saw it as a cage, having felt like the ground had fallen from underneath his feet, and then life molded in a way that felt suffocating. He made sure to keep the details vague. He did not want to mention his wife, or the life he tried to escape for a couple hours. Luckily Yuri did not push him. He was a talker anyway, filling the air with complaints and stories while Otabek sat back and listened. It was a great fit, and once again the hours pretty much flew by, the conversation gradually coming to an end by the time it got to three pm. 

Otabek expected Yuri to just jump up and leave like he had done the week before, but this time he did not. Instead they walked out together when the shop became too noisy. They talked a bit more about weekend plans while Otabek got on his motorcycle and put on his helmet. 

There was a glint in Yuri’s eyes that Otabek did not understand, but he was not too concerned. Because even with less than ten hours of interaction Otabek already knew something of Yuri. He was a storm, no way to predict what would happen after. There was little use trying to. 

So when Yuri took a seat behind him on his motor and demanded to be taken for a ride, he was not as surprised as he probably should have been. Instead he kicked the machine to life without skipping a beat and steered to the streets, making sure to drive slow as Yuri was not wearing a helmet. The man did not seemed to be worried by it though, holding Otabek by the shoulders and angling his head to the sun to feel the breeze. A bright laugh in Otabek’s ear.

“Where do you want to go?” Otabek shouted over his shoulder, his voice fighting with the sound of the engine and the noises around them. 

Yuri simply shrugged and went back to enjoying the sunshine. 

“Take your pick.”

He returned the grin on Yuri’s face and sped up. They drove for a while, random circles without destination, before he finally steered them to the entrance of one of Boston’s many parks. He killed the engine and took of his helmet, combing one hand through his hair to tame the impossible. 

“On the way back you are wearing a helmet, I swear you have no self-preservation.” He mumbled to Yuri, dismounting after his passenger had. 

The man scowled. “No way in hell. Nasty sweaty helmet.” He grumbled, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 

A showdown followed, them both glaring until Yuri threw his hands in the air and sighed dramatically. 

“Okay, fine I will wear the bloody thing!”

This time it was Otabek’s turn to smile. Feeling proud to have won from the storm at least once. Even though the storm made sure to glare a little longer, then turned abruptly and walked off without warning, leaving Otabek struggling to catch up. 

Otabek expected there to be annoyance, anger even as they walked down the gravel paths. Yet Yuri seemed to be very forgiving, if he was annoyed he did not show, scanning the trees and fields instead while their shoes made scrunching noises on the pebbles beneath their feet. It was busy in the park, teenagers were sunbathing and playing Frisbee, mothers chased little children around or ate ice cream, and people walked dogs of all shapes and sizes. All of it underneath a radiant sun that felt warm on Otabek’s skin and made the place smell like flowers and grass. They followed the path for a while, side by side with silence between them, until Yuri steered off the path, kicked off his shoes and dropped himself to the ground. He sighed in delight, with his eyes closed and the soles of his feet rubbing over the grass. 

Otabek sat down next to him, crossing his legs and letting his hand brush over the blades, while Yuri stared at the sky above. 

He looked so incredibly relaxed that Otabek started to feel even more uncomfortable. He could not read this man. Was he still angry at their argument? And more importantly did this man always trust strangers this easily?

“You realize I could have been an axe murder rapist, don’t you?” he started cautiously, as a small voice in the back of his mind warned him to be careful not to offend him even more. 

“That’s a very specific kind of rapist Otabek. Must be hard to act on that. Axe murderers do not walk freely nowadays, you might want to start raping regular people. Even though it does sound more boring.”

He shot Yuri a glare, but it went down the man’s back like water. There was a glint in his eyes and a mocking smile tugging on his lips. Otabek had been worried about nothing. 

“You know what I mean.” 

The man just grinned wider, stretching himself like a cat in sunlight. His hair a stark contrast with the green of the grass and his arms stretched over his head. A delta of blue green veins crossing his arms. Otabek could not help but be mesmerized. His fingers itched to trace the lines down to the man’s hand, instead he curled them in his palm. 

“You wouldn’t Otabek. You were so flustered when you crashed into me, and just now, waiting for me even though you pretended not to. I have some people skills, it’s something you learn in the ballet world. You have to know who backstabs and who is loyal. And besides no guts no glory. You can’t live your life in fear. It won’t get you anywhere.”

“So you go off with strangers more often? Just hop in their car and go?”  
Yuri snorted, and shook his head. 

“God no! Usually I meet up with them a bit more. But you don’t seem to be a person that just runs off with someone either. So calm and collected. So why did you do it?”

He had him there, Otabek had to admit that. He avoided those eyes that saw too much, suddenly feeling exposed and shy. Instead he stared at a family with two kids and a dog that were playing together on the other side of the field. A painful reminder of the life he should live with Inkar instead of laying in the grass with this man and escaping. She had begged him for a child so many times, but he had never been able to fulfil that wish. So her dream had stayed just that: a dream. A distant hope for her to glue their family together. 

“A change of pace I guess. Life had me in a lock. You were the thing that broke it.”

“No guts no glory.”

They stayed like that in silence for hours, staring at the clouds passing, sharing earbuds like teenagers, watching the children and people until the sun sank in the background. Signaling that time would always pass, even if Otabek did not want to. But they both had to go, Yuri to his cat and he to his wife. Even though he did not mention her. 

“Want to do this again next week?” The words were out before he knew. They were standing in front of the Starbucks they had started at. He was still on his bike, Yuri had already dismounted. He was trying feverishly to fix his hair after he had taken off the helmet, his face pulled in a frown as he used one of the mirrors. The man looked up at him in surprise, one eyebrow raised. 

Otabek tried to hide his flushed cheeks. He had realized on the way back that he did not want this to slip through his fingers. He did not want to go back to the heavy atmospheres and the cold. He had already become addicted to these escapes. 

Luckily Yuri seemed to like them as well, as he smiled and gave him back the helmet. 

“Same time, same place. See you then Beka.”

The man saluted him and turned, giving him a last look over his shoulder before walking off over the pavement. This time there was no sunlight making his blonde hair glow golden, or a scent of flowers surrounding him. Yet there was no demise in his aura. His elegant movements were still there, and once again Otabek found himself enchanted once more. There was actually a grin on his face when he put the spare helmet back into the compartment under his seat and took off. It stayed with him the whole drive back… Until he steered into his street and remembered his chore. He had forgotten all about the groceries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As expected life got in the way, and thus I am slightly, very, behind on my planned upload schedule. I am still debating how to fix it as I am going on a trip this weekend to Germany and the hotel has bad internet. But most likely another chapter will be uploaded on Thursday, and depending on how much time I have to edit in Germany, also one on Sunday. Either way I want to post at least more then just this one.  
> Enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look! It’s the turtle!”
> 
> He followed the direction in which Yuri pointed. A green turtle sluggishly descended from the top of the tank, waving its flippers slowly as if it had all the time in the world, passing sharks and a rainbow of colored fish to move closely past the glass. Otabek felt himself smile while he followed the animal with his eyes. The serenity was beautiful and creature elegant. He could understand why Yuri had wanted to see it. 
> 
> For a while they stayed staring, silently enjoying the sights, until suddenly Yuri backed off. The blush was back on his face, his eyebrows in a frown. He walked away swiftly, almost marching, to another floor, his face close to the shade of a tomato. 
> 
> “I mean yes, the fish are pretty.” He mumbled over his shoulder, failing to feign indifference. 
> 
> A chuckle threatened to escape Otabek’s lips, but he swallowed it. The grin could not be taken back though. Yuri was acting adorable, even as he kept glancing over his shoulder at Otabek with fear in his eyes. 
> 
> “Yes, they are.” Otabek told him, hoping it would calm Yuri's strange behaviour, wherever it might’ve came from.

Otabek swore a blue streak and turned around. Then swore again as he entered the grocers and remembered the list still stuck to the fridge door. He had forgotten all about it in his restlessness that morning. The stream of swears and curses did not seem to end. His day had started so well and ended so terrible that he could only sigh in annoyance. There was simply no way in which he would remember what stuff they had ran out of and what they had, so he didn’t even try. In the end he just picked almost at random and left, mentally already bracing himself for the storm. 

Inkar was already waiting for him when he walked into their apartment, her foot tapping on the floor, her chestnut eyes squinted to slits. He had been right to brace himself. 

“You’re late! I was worried sick. Where were you?” 

Otabek steered clear of her. Instead of kissing her on the cheek and apologizing, like she most likely expected, he just walked straight into the kitchen, dropped the bag of groceries on the counter and started to unpack. Cereal in the cupboard, milk in the fridge next to the carton they already had. He groaned mentally when he noticed, felt like slamming his head against the heavy stainless-steel door. Inkar would not like that when she noticed. She would comment on their wastefulness. 

“I was at the park, I wanted some fresh air. I completely forgot the time and the groceries so I did them on top of my head. But I forgot half of it. And bought duplicates of others.”

She sighed before he even could try to apologize, muttering something about having to do everything in their household. He clenched his jaw, wanting to go against her but also wanting to avoid the fight because she was begging him to, waiting for it like a snake or a panther ready to strike and drag him through the mud. He would not give her that pleasure. 

“How was the sermon?” he asked, placing tomatoes and rice on the counter. His wife did not skip a beat in grabbed them, adding them to the pile of ingredients she already had on the chopping board she had placed on the counter. Otabek would have been able to decipher what they would eat from them but he did not care either way. 

“What does that matter to you? You do not want to come.” She growled under her breath, chopping the vegetables a bit more aggressively than usual. When they were in pieces, or more mush, which took seconds, she looked up. Her eyes glared at him like an angry cat. She dared him to speak, wanting him to tuck his tail between his legs and leave. He did the opposite. 

“It’s called small talk Inkar. Play along or stay silent, your pick.” He was growling as well, his mood in a freefall compared to the park, but decided to hell with it. If she wanted a fight, they could. She looked as if she wanted to kill him, muttering some more under her breath before faking a venomous sweet smile and looking up at him. The angry fire had not left her eyes for a second. 

“The sermon was amazing, husband. When we were done, I met up with the girls and we discussed the upcoming wedding of Siham’s daughter and enjoyed ourselves. It was a very relaxing time. Then I came home expecting to have time to sit and watch television, but you had left your dishes in the sink, and the laundry in the bathroom. So I had to clean up first. Then when I felt hungry I could not eat, but had to wait for my dear husband to arrive. However I had no idea when he would arrive because he did not tell me. No note, no message, no call. So I was to sit here and worry.” 

Taunt dripped from her every word, a sarcastic emphasis on the word “Husband”. She wanted him to react, to defend himself or to call her unfair. Instead he gave her his sweetest smile and grabbed the can of beer he had bought from the bottom of the paper bag. It opened with a satisfying hiss, which was enough oil on the fire already. He could see her work her jaw in anger. Inkar prided herself in having a perfect Muslim household, which meant among other things keeping her husband in line with the Quran. Beer was thus strictly forbidden. It did not mean that Otabek did not drink, he wasn’t Muslim after all, but usually he drank it in secret when she was away or when he was out. This time however he felt bold, or more like an ass. He took a sip with their eyes still locked, daring her to explode. If she wanted a fight, then she had to be the one to start it. But she did not. Instead she clenched her jaw and pointed to the living room with a trembling arm. He went, the can of beer still in his hand and an oddly triumphant feeling in his chest. 

The rest of the evening passed in a silence crackling with anger. Dinner was quiet except for some overly polite and tense “could you pass the, whatever they needed, please.” After he retreated to the bedroom with a book while she watched shows on television, and when they finally had to lay close together in bed they turned their backs on each other as if they were strangers. 

The mood did not improve till Monday, having spent the weekend in almost complete silence. They avoided each other for most of the day. Otabek could escape to work on Saturday leaving her behind on the couch, and on Sunday she left him on the couch when she visited a friend. The tension remained in the air, but for Otabek out of sight was also out of mind. He had become an expert in pushing his problems away, Inkar on the other hand could not take it. She apologized Monday morning at breakfast. Her deer like eyes locked with his, yet unreadable. He doubted her sincerity, but he accepted anyway. The episode was forgotten and ignored, pushed away to the back of his mind like all the episodes before it. Hidden away in a large mental vault that seemed close to overflowing. They fell back in their familiar pattern. They spoke, they breathed, they slept, but the empty kisses Otabek pressed on her temple before leaving, still filled him with agitation. And he still could not help leaving the house as soon as he could every day. 

He was elated when Friday came. The prospect of distraction was very welcome after a week of struggle and walking on eggshells. So terribly welcome that he became bold and send Yuri a text to ask if they could meet at ten instead of noon. There was nothing left of nerves of earlier weeks only excited anticipation. Yuri accepted without questions. 

The sky was gray and gloomy when he parked in front of the Starbucks later that day. There was no sign of the friendly sunshine they had had the weeks prior. It fitted a bit too well with Otabek’s mood of the past week. 

“Doesn’t look like we will be sunbathing.” Yuri grumbled to him after he had walked up to Otabek’s motorcycle. “Disgusting. I was looking forward to sleeping in the grass.” 

Otabek hummed in agreement as he killed the engine, but he could not care less. His mental state was so bad he could have ran into a hurricane with the man and would not have cared. 

“Any idea what to do instead?”

“You leave the decision to me? You sure?” 

“Yeah.”

The man grinned at him, then his face clouded over when he got lost in thoughts. His lips pouted in a way that pulled at Otabek’s attention. 

They were slightly glossy, from lip balm if he had to guess, and distracting him tremendously. Otabek found himself wondering if they were as soft as they looked. A flush crept up his face and neck when he caught himself, the color most likely deepening to embarrassing levels when Yuri startled him by looking up. Otabek tore his eyes away as fast as he could manage, examining birds in trees that were actually empty. He swore he could see Yuri smirk in the corner of his eye then cursed mentally. What was he doing? Had he forgotten that he was married? 

There were knots in his stomach as he waited for Yuri to shout at him. To be angry for his shameless behavior. But the man did not. If Yuri had noticed he had decided to ignore the moment completely and instead bit his lip while he was still pondering away. Which made Otabek having to fight staring even more. 

He decided on a compromise in the end, tearing his eyes away from Yuri’s face again to let them wander up his body instead, noting the tight black jeans and the pale blue tank top with open sides his companion wore. From there he followed the pale skin of Yuri’s neck back up to his face, barely avoiding his lips, to look at his hair. The intricate braiding was gone. His shoulder length hair was mostly loose this time. Only a part of it was tied back in a tiny ponytail, to keep his hair out of his face most likely. 

“Yeah I got something, let’s go before it starts pouring.” 

Yuri’s voice startled him out of his train of thoughts and his staring. But Otabek had no time to be flustered or uncomfortable. Yuri was already moving. He had grabbed the spare helmet from the compartment in the back before Otabek could move. Otabek was still struggling with understanding what was happening when Yuri was already cursing at the compartment for it not wanting to open. But once again he was faster in prying it open then Otabek could shake off his confusion. He watched Yuri grab the helmet and swing his leg over to sit behind him in a sort of daze. In the end he could only shake his head to clear his mind while Yuri put on his gear. 

“Where to?” Otabek asked when Yuri had settled himself and he had regained his mind. The man grinned at him, leaning onto his shoulders with his hands. 

“You will see. Do you know how to get to Columbus Park?”

Otabek frowned. 

“The one near the harbor?” 

“Yes that one, I will tell you where to go from there.” 

For a second he simply stared at Yuri in confusion, a frown on his face. Then he simply shrugged and kicked the engine to life. Reminding himself that he was spending the afternoon with a hurricane. Understanding did not have top priority. 

Unlike the week before there was no leaning back and sunbathing this time. Instead Yuri held on to his waist and snuggled close. Otabek’s muscles were squeezed tight, but the pressure and warmth was far from uncomfortable. Most of all it was distracting him from heavy traffic, very distracting him. Otabek had to avoid being hit more than once. It gave him more than one heart attack. He hated it, especially as he could feel Yuri’s hands clenching on his waist every time. Halfway the twenty minute drive he learned however that those clenches were not in fear. As Yuri twisted suddenly and started to flip the bird at a car driver that had come a bit to close, shouting curses and obscenities in Russian. 

He could not help but laugh loudly, before speeding a bit to get the hell of a ride behind them as the clouds released a slight drizzle. They sped through the remaining traffic, taking only half the time for the second part compared to the first. It felt liberating, and exhilarating, the speed a buzz in his blood. It was exactly the reason why he had decided on his motorcycle over a car even though so many people had questioned his decision. He was almost sad when he finally felt Yuri tapping his shoulder, but he was too curious to complain. 

It started to dawn on him what their destination was when they turned into the harbor, but kept his laughter hidden until Yuri told him to park in front of the building. Otabek took of his helmet, and looked at Yuri in disbelieve, his lips still in a smile. He could not believe this elegant sophisticated ballet dancer had brought him here. 

“The New England Aquarium?” he hesitantly asked, expecting Yuri to start laughing at him. To tell him he had been pranked. For all the places he could have been led to, Otabek had not expected this one. The façade of the building was well known in the city consisting of a brick building and strange roofs, framed by the harbor and the ocean in the background. But Yuri did not laugh. Instead he looked a bit uncomfortable and insecure, as he halted half way a stretching routine he had started after dismounting. His words more defensive than anything else. 

“Yeah, I want to see the green turtle, and the leafy sea dragons. And we will be dry! Everything is indoors.” 

Because the drizzle had turned into rain, soaking their skin and clothes slowly but surely. Otabek looked at him in disbelieve, then shook his head while dismounting. A leftover chuckle escaped his lips as he pulled out his keys. 

“Let’s go, the rain is getting worse anyway.” 

The sparkle in Yuri’s eyes was adorable, but the man hid it away as soon as Otabek saw it and pretended not to be excited. Otabek sensed it in everything however, in the man’s tapping foot when they put their helmets in lockers, in the way he grasped the map after Otabek paid for their tickets and in the way he led them upstairs to the top of the massive cylindrical basin that stood at the center of the building and was the main display. There was a skip in his step as he took the stairs two at the time. 

Otabek followed him at a bit of a distance, watching Yuri watch the various fish in the tank. It was way more entertaining than the fish itself. There was a bright smile on the man’s face, his hands resting on the glass like a small child… Until he noticed, or remembered, that Otabek was watching him. The scowl returned instantly, a bright blush creeping up his pale cheeks and his hands returned to his pockets. 

Otabek hid the smile threatening to take over his face and moved to stand next to him. The tank was well lit and looked peaceful, fishes and shark seemingly floating through the water. After a while of staring Yuri seemed to forget whatever it was that was holding him back again, leaning his pale hands against the glass. 

It was strange for Otabek to watch the change between distant and excitement change back and forth over and over again. Yuri did not seem to know how to act near him, as if he feared something. It was a mystery to Otabek what. 

“Look! It’s the turtle!”

He followed the direction in which Yuri pointed. A green turtle sluggishly descended from the top of the tank, waving its flippers slowly as if it had all the time in the world, passing sharks and a rainbow of colored fish to move closely past the glass. Otabek felt himself smile while he followed the animal with his eyes. The serenity was beautiful and creature elegant. He could understand why Yuri had wanted to see it. 

For a while they stayed staring, silently enjoying the sights, until suddenly Yuri backed off. The blush was back on his face, his eyebrows in a frown. He walked away swiftly, almost marching, to another floor, his face close to the shade of a tomato. 

“I mean yes, the fish are pretty.” He mumbled over his shoulder, failing to feign indifference. 

A chuckle threatened to escape Otabek’s lips, but he swallowed it. The grin could not be taken back though. Yuri was acting adorable, even as he kept glancing over his shoulder at Otabek with fear in his eyes. 

“Yes, they are.” Otabek told him, hoping it would calm Yuri's strange behaviour, wherever it might’ve came from. “I don’t know about you, but I would like some tea.”

“Coffee sounds great.”

The Yuri he had known before, the relaxed and confident version, had finally seemed to make his appearance. Otabek was so glad to see him that he did not even make a comment, walking with the man another floor down to the Harbor view cafe. It provided a stunning view of the harbor and the ocean, not entirely surprising because of the name, but still beautiful. They sat down with a drink near the window and watched the seagulls scream and dive. Or Otabek did. Yuri had unfolded the map as soon as they had sat down and scanned it with uttermost concentration, one only broken by sips of scalding coffee and flinches. Otabek looked at him with interest while he drank his tea, but stayed silent until the man seemed to be done. 

“Made a plan?”

Yuri looked at him as a deer in the headlights before a blush took over his face once again. They locked eyes for a few seconds before Yuri nodded quickly and folded the paper again to return his attention to his cup of coffee. 

“So where do we go next? Back to see more of the displays in the level we just came from? Or are we going to skip that and go straight to the penguins?”

For a moment there was a cold suspicion in Yuri’s eyes, his eyes in slits and his knuckles white on the cup. The coffee threatened to overflow when Yuri almost slammed it on the table. Otabek rose an eyebrow in puzzlement and took a sip, before speaking again. 

“What? I like penguins?” 

But the expression did not mellow, if anything it became worse. Yuri’s entire body had become rigid, his eyes glaring daggers. A stormy temper hidden in his posture. 

“Are you laughing at me?” Yuri finally spat, his hands in clenched fists on the table. Anger in his voice. 

Otabek frowned at the sudden unexpected reaction and wondered what he did wrong, or had done wrong. 

“No.” he was dead serious, locking eyes. “I am not laughing at you. You make me smile, yes. But I am not laughing at you. I am simply enjoying myself, I haven’t been in the aquarium for ages. To be honest it was exactly what I needed.”

The man was not convinced, his nose wrinkled in disgust. He stared Otabek down until Otabek sighed deeply, frustration now also bubbling in his body. 

“Seriously Yuri? What do you need me to tell you? I’ve had a major fight with my roommate, I am here to relax and forget about it. So yeah I am laughing and enjoying myself.”

It was silent for a while, the man had looked away at the table, the crackling air suddenly as calm as it had been before they had arrived. Once more Yuri’s face flushed red. 

“I’m sorry.” The man whispered eventually. “I am just not used to people acting like this. In my world some people just try to take you down at every possible moment and in every possible way. It is a lot of smiles and a lot of friendship, but also a lot of backstabbing. I am always a bit paranoid. I have an image to uphold I guess, people can easily find things to pick on.”

“Sounds harsh.” 

Yuri hummed and shrugged, stirring his cup of coffee absentmindedly for a while, his eyes on the vast ocean. 

“I don’t care how excited you get from a display like this Yuri. If they make you happy then who am I to judge? I just had to laugh because you, desperately trying to hide your excitement, but failing miserably, look very silly. No one here knows you except me. And I know that we don’t really know each other. But believe one thing about me: I don’t judge. Let it go.”

Yuri’s head whipped back, a deathly glare in his eyes. For a second Otabek held his breath, afraid that he would get slapped, instead Yuri wrinkled his nose again and hissed something Otabek would have never expected. 

“Start to sing, and I will kill you.” 

This time Otabek could not contain the laughter at the sudden change of subject. It was a mix of surprise, relief and simple ridiculous laughter. It shook his entire frame until he folded over on the table. He felt very tempted to do the very thing Yuri dared him to, but even if he wanted it he couldn’t. There was no air in his lungs and his sized burned, he was laughing so hard. And it was contagious. It didn’t take long for Yuri to start laughing as well. Two full grown men rolling over the table in laughter, they most likely looked very foolish, but Otabek could not care. It took them minutes to stop, their chests heaving and tears in their eyes. Finally they looked at each other, both of them grinning like madmen. 

“Leafy sea dragons and penguins?” Otabek offered, as he downed his last sip of tea. His stomach muscles and the corners of his mouth ached, but he didn’t mind it one bit. They would get used to it again, as they had before everything. He looked at Yuri, who followed his lead and swallowed a lot more coffee then Otabek had tea left way too fast for comfort, as if he was drinking water or beer, then slammed the cup on the table. 

“Sounds like a plan. Let's go”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised another Chapter on Thursday. I hope I will have the time to edit another chapter for Sunday, if not next chapter will be posted on Tuesday.  
> I want to thank everyone who left comments, they may or may have not made me grin like a fool (Spoilers:they have, more then once.)  
> I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter as much as I did writing and editing them, it is one of my favorites in this story so please enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was pouring when they got to the doors, the gray pavement dark with water. They both sighed loudly in unison. 
> 
> “I should have brought my hoodie.” Yuri groaned, staring at the rain coming down in a curtain. 
> 
> “You can say that again. We should wait for it to stop, but I really have to get on my way. And this place is closing soon.” 
> 
> The man groaned again, glaring at the clouds as if it would make them stop, but the drops shamelessly ignored him, if anything, it seemed to Otabek as if the rain came down even faster, mocking them. 
> 
> “It can’t be helped, I guess.”
> 
> “The water is probably warm?” Otabek tried, a smirk on his face, but the raised eyebrows showed that Yuri wasn’t buying it. 
> 
> “Here goes nothing”

Yuri snatched the map of the table as they got up then led them back up the stairs to the third level of the building, this time entering the separate display rooms they had skipped earlier. Afterwards they followed the spiral path down to the lower levels, the glass cylinder always at their side. Otabek could see flashes of the green turtle every time they walked by it, but never for a long time as Yuri would tell him to hurry up so he could show the new discoveries in the other rooms. Yuri pointed at octopi and anacondas, lionfish and leafy sea dragons. And every time there was a look of wonder on the man’s face. He seemed to love everything he saw. The only time his face fell was when they reached the last floor at the bottom of the tank. A shallow pond filled with rays and sharks for children to touch sat near the exit of the walkway. Yuri did not seem to be a fan, neither could Otabek say he was. He preferred to leave the touching to the children, who would actually learn from the experience, then to freak the fish out himself. Instead he turned to the cylindrical tank for a final time. Taking in the different rainbow of color in the tank itself and the beautiful blue light that bathed the walls and made strange patterns as if they were under water. Yuri followed his example, leaning his hands on the glass again, the pale skin of his arms turning a blue shade due to the light, his eyes skimming from left to right in concentration. As if he would remember all the colors of the different corals on top of his head if he only stared long enough. 

“Want to take a selfie?” 

Otabek never took selfies, he never felt the need. The only pictures in existence of him were made by Inkar when they were at birthdays. Yet this seemed to be a moment he would want to remember for the rest of his life. Yuri on the other hand hesitated. He glanced from the glass to Otabek and back, biting his lower lip, as if he was trying to figure out if he was to be trusted. It seemed as if he was still considering how the world would think of this adult ballerina looking at fish. 

“I swear I won’t post it, unless you want me to.” He tried gently, not sure why he was so adamant on the picture when he had never been avoiding them for years, but it felt so important. “You know what. You take it.” 

The man still seemed to need a bit more convincing, his fingers curling into his palm as he bit his lower lip. But eventually his gaze steeled, as if a mask slipped back in place and with it the confidence. 

They took a couple of pictures, Yuri was mostly scowling on them, as if he was kidnapped, except for one. In which the turtle had swam behind them, and the surprise had shocked Yuri into a smile. It was Otabek’s favorite the second he saw it. Yuri’s did not however, his finger hoovered over the delete button almost immediately, and he would have pressed it, had Otabek not snatched the phone out of his hand before he could and ran off with it. The man shouted in surprise and chased him, but Otabek was fast enough, sending the picture to himself before handing the phone back with a triumphant grin. 

Yuri scowled deeper and shoved him in revenge. Otabek’s balance however barely wavered, and even if he would have Otabek did not mind, as Yuri slipped his phone back in his pocket without deleting anything then marched ahead. However when Otabek caught up to him, he could see a little smile on the man’s lips out of the corner of his eye. 

They left the tank behind them and walked around the displays on the ground floor. Yuri’s attempt of checking his reaction seemed to have disappeared completely, but still he would ever so often glance over his shoulder to check Otabek’s reaction in distrust. Mostly because Otabek kept his distance, watching the display in his own lazy way. His hands in his pocket while Yuri’s seemed either plastered to the glass or intertwined behind his back. 

The smile stayed on Otabek’s lips, but he did not dare laugh at Yuri again, not even when they passed the seal basin and one of the seals “Snuck up on them” as Yuri claimed. The loud yelp that had escaped him had been hilarious, but the man had been glaring daggers so Otabek had been good and held his laughter, only just, before moving on. When Otabek glanced over his shoulder however, he saw that Yuri had to fight his own laughter too. 

They walked around a bit longer, stopping at every display they could find. They saw sharks and jellyfish, seals and finally the penguins Otabek had been looking forward to. The birds looked silly, sitting on the rocks and sort of sulking. There were a lot, an array of Black, blue and yellow feathers, their strange honking noises adding to the white noise of the place every so often. 

“I’ve never seen blue ones before.” Otabek mumbled in awe when they stopped near the enclosure. This time he was the one standing close, him who felt the need to press the palms of his hands on the stone divide with Yuri following him, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

“I love penguins, they are ridiculous” Otabek grinned as he watched them waddle around, then snorted when one tripped and fell, bouncing a bit on the rocks. Yuri joined in this time, not able to hold his laughter. They looked at each other when the laughter died, then Otabek moved his head towards the exit and they walked away. 

It was pouring when they got to the doors, the gray pavement dark with water. They both sighed loudly in unison. 

“I should have brought my hoodie.” Yuri groaned, staring at the rain coming down in a curtain. 

“You can say that again. We should wait for it to stop, but I really have to get on my way. And this place is closing soon.” 

The man groaned again, glaring at the clouds as if it would make them stop, but the drops shamelessly ignored him, if anything, it seemed to Otabek as if the rain came down even faster, mocking them. 

“It can’t be helped, I guess.”

“The water is probably warm?” Otabek tried, a smirk on his face, but the raised eyebrows showed that Yuri wasn’t buying it. 

“Here goes nothing”

Yuri still looked disgusted, but stepped out anyway, yelping when the water soaked his tank top in what seemed seconds. The light blue fabric clinging to his stomach, outlining his skin and muscles underneath. Otabek had to tear his eyes away, looking instead at Yuri’s face, the man’s blond hair stuck to his face. He looked like a soaked kitten, but even with everything that should have made him attractive ruined and with an angry scowl on his face, Otabek still couldn’t help but think how handsome he looked. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that he should watch a little longer, but Yuri startled him out of it by calling him a slowpoke. So he took one last look and then bit the bullet himself. 

He stepped out, the water way colder than he had imagined as it came down on him. It chilled him to the bone, as the water made his black hair hang in his eyes and stuck his shirt to his body. It clung heavy on him like a second skin. He took a second to fold his hair back then looked at Yuri. For a moment it seemed as if he had caught the man staring, the movement of his head just a bit too quick for it not to have been, but he had no time to comment, Yuri started to run without warning, his helmet swinging back and forth on his wrist. 

Otabek hurried to keep up with him, watching Yuri jump puddles as if he was doing a routine, his legs stretched in what neared an impossible horizontal angle. Otabek couldn’t help but whistle between his teeth when the man landed, Yuri however just grinned, turning half a pirouette on one foot to face him. 

“Childs play. Don’t look at me like that, it is only a grand Jete. And it wasn’t even executed well. My coach would drill me for slacking, but I am not risking an injury by tripping over my own feet.” 

It might have been Yuri’s perfectionism, or it might have been Otabek’s lack of knowledge that made him oblivious to the apparently obvious flaws, either way, he was in awe. Because it looked hard. So hard that he had to clench his jaws to prevent himself from gasping when Yuri did it again, his legs at an even cleaner angle this time. 

“I am calling bullshit on that being Childs play because that looks very impressive. But even if it is, I am not going to try it, I will leave that up to you.” He shook his head to clear the rain from his eyes, the droplets flying everywhere, then walked through the puddle Yuri had leapt and joined the man, who had been waiting for him after his little performance, a scowl on his face. 

“Okay, now you will be dragged to a real performance. This should not impress you if we’re going to hang out more. It’s pathetic.”

“I would love to, you make me curious. I’ve never been to ballet.” 

“Deal, I will get you tickets for the Nutcracker, you know the show I’m leading in. It’s a season classic here in Boston and a perfect start to educate you. I am looking forward to see your jaw drop.” 

Otabek smiled because he could see in the wrinkle of Yuri’s nose and the movements of his hands that he was serious. He was actually going to be dragged to the ballet. 

He couldn’t wait. 

The banter continued as they walked to his motorcycle. Yuri insisting on showing some more moves to see his reaction while Otabek was adamant that was fine. In the end Otabek won, mostly because they had arrived at his motorcycle, but also because he told Yuri he would rather be surprised with the performance. It made Yuri groan in defeat before he climbed behind him in the saddle. The man’s hands on Otabek’s waist warm through the cold of the rain. 

“I am going to drive slower this time. Bikes and rain isn’t the best of combinations.”

Yuri shrugged and held on tightly as Otabek fired the engine and drove off. Their speed was lower than usual, as Otabek made sure to keep grip on the asphalt, especially as the rain showed no indication of stopping anytime soon. They drove home at a snail’s pace, taking the same although emptier streets, as that morning. Especially the sidewalks. Most people had apparently already found their way home, the few that had not were walking fast shielded by colorful umbrellas. 

A luxury they did not have. 

It was thus no surprise that they were beyond soaked when they arrived at the Starbucks. Yuri dismounted as soon as the motorcycle came to a standstill. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home?” Otabek asked, as he accepted Yuri’s helmet. 

His voice close to a yell as it had to be louder than the rain, his machine and the traffic. Yuri nodded, water droplets flying everywhere and mingling with the rain.

“I am sure! I am soaked anyway. Besides that, it won’t kill me. I’m not made of sugar!” he grinned. A sparkle in eyes that seemed darker in color as the clouds blocked all sunshine. 

“Fair enough. So, what’s next week? The Zoo?”

Yuri’s face brightened impossibly more, he seemed to have to restrain himself from jumping for joy. 

“Yes! I want to see the tigers!”

Otabek grinned, shaking his head slowly to keep himself from laughing. 

“Deal, I will see you here at ten in the morning.’

Yuri lifted his hand at him and turned, walking away over the sidewalk. Otabek watched him go, his eyes following the man’s movements and soaked body until Yuri turned a corner and disappeared out of sight. He then turned his machine and drove away, taking a short stop to get take away Italian before arriving home. His bones felt frozen when he entered the apartment. He very much longed for a hot shower and some food. Instead he met Inkar’s glare from the moment he put the food on the table and met her gaze. 

She was sitting on the black sofa, the lady of the house in her domain. Her hands folded in her lap, her hair in a thick braid down her back and here long-sleeved shirt and modest skirt casual. 

“You’re dripping on the floor.” She mumbled after a second of tense eye contact, getting up and crossing the room to meet him. “Go take a shower while I clean up this mess. Couldn’t you have brought an umbrella or something?” 

She kept grumbling, giving him a little push to indicate he should move. He obeyed, leaving a trail of water stains behind as he slipped into the bathroom and shut the door.

The warm water made him sigh as it expelled the cold from his muscles and warmed him up from the outside in. He closed his eyes and enjoyed, his eyes on the black floor tiles and his mind blank. The only things he could hear was the water crashing to the ground and Inkar moving around in the apartment. He zoned out, humming a song and allowing all tension to drain from his body. 

He slowly but surely forgot where he was, his mind replaying his day with Yuri until a harsh sound of knuckles on wood startled him out of it. 

Inkar entered the room with an air of confidence that showed that she knew her claims on him. She glanced up and down his body through the steam that filled the room. Otabek felt strangely exposed and slightly uncomfortable, especially as her tongue darted across her lips in a quick motion. 

“Dinner is getting cold.” She finally mumbled, her eyes still taking their time examining what felt like every inch of his skin. 

“Give me a second.” 

He hoped she would get the message, but she didn’t leave. Instead she walked in further and handed him a shampoo bottle, then sat on the edge of the sink and watched him wash his hair, her eyes following the stream of foam down his body. After a few seconds of humoring her, he turned, trying to trick himself in believing that he was alone, but her burning eyes would not leave him. Especially not when she started to open closets to find him a towel. 

Otabek followed her movements over his shoulder and waited. Waited for her to say something. Because he knew there were words to come, as the times she entered the bathroom with him were rare ever since their relationship chilled. However he could only stall for so long, and the time was running out. When he stepped out of the shower she was still to start talking. Instead she neared him, wrapping him in a towel and rubbing him dry in gentle motions. He let her. He watched her do it, while he dried his hair with the other towel she had grabbed. 

It made him uncomfortable to see her on her knees, as she dried his legs. He felt as if he was looking at some orientalist movie with meek slave beauties ready to do everything at their masters’ command. She however seemed not to see the connection he made as she smiled all the while,  
kissing his shoulder when she was contempt with her work. 

“This way you won’t make more stains.” She mumbled to his skin, rising on tiptoe to catch his lips in a long tame kiss he accepted without enthusiasm. He hummed when she let him go, slipping into the underwear and sweatpants she had brought him. 

“Sorry about that. I had a change of plans, I wanted to go to the supermarket, but ended up in the aquarium and it started to pour on the way back. It’s a long story.”

They had moved into the living room while they spoke, replacing the dark tiles for the white painted walls of their living room. 

Inkar loved the starkness, the minimalistic. It was a recurring theme throughout the house, which she was responsible for decorating. It would have been terribly cold and boring had it not been for their heritage peeping through every now and again, bringing color with them. It showed in the decorated Kazakh carpet on the wooden floor. In the decorations on the wall, a mix of Muslim and Kazakh art that Inkar had collected over the years. There were woven textiles from their home country on the walls, next to painted miniature replica’s based on a traditional hero myth. These, together with some plants randomly placed around, brought color to the room. It was beyond their power however, to warm the almost sterile feeling that came with Inkar’s almost obsession with cleanness and tidiness. There was never anything out of place, as if it was some sort of show model instead of a house, or so it seemed to Otabek. 

The black leather sofa felt cold to the skin when Otabek dropped on it. He considered grabbing a shirt, but before he could get up, Inkar had already pushed a plate of pasta in his hand and settled next to him her feet wrapped up underneath her. They ate in silence for a while, the only sound the voices of actors on television. They were watching Inkar’s favorite television program but neither of them seemed to really pay attention. He was too busy moving pieces of pasta on his plate, she too busy watching him. She was waiting for something, her back leaning into the sofa but her muscles taut. As if she wanted to move but did not dare. 

“How was your day?” He asked her eventually when the program started to wind down. Because it was the logical thing to do, the thing he guessed she was waiting for, for him to speak, for him to show interest. 

He was right, as soon as he started to speak the tension disappeared from her body. 

“Normal.” She mumbled, between two bites of pasta, her body leaning more and more into him. “Service at the mosque, lunch at Nadiya’s then went back home. You? Was the aquarium fun?”

He hummed before placing his empty plate on the coffee table and making himself more comfortable. “Yeah, saw some penguins, turtles, cool fish, it really is a nice aquarium. Perhaps you should take the girls some time.” 

The moment the words passed his lips he knew he had made a mistake. Her body had tensed again, the air suddenly charged as he felt her mood change for the worst. A whirlwind of emotion settled in her eyes. Anger and disappointment in her set jaw. 

“Perhaps I would want to go with you.” She mumbled after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. Then she too placed her plate on the table then turned to face him, pinning him down with her anger. “We never go on dates anymore. During the week we are both exhausted from work. Sundays aren’t really date nights and Fridays are always planned to the max for me.”

She sighed wearily, her fingers rubbing her brow between the eyes. 

“I just… I just had hoped that you would be at home today. We never really cleared the air did we?” 

Otabek looked at her, she looked exhausted and emotionally drained. Dark rings under her eyes that came from more than one sleepless night. He had noticed her restlessness in bed but had chosen to leave it be. He had no excuse for it other than that he did not feel like dealing with her. Now he felt like he had to, feeling guilty for hurting her as bad as he had. She looked up at him in surprise when he grabbed her hand, stroking his thumb over her skin. 

“Come here.” He mumbled, scooting over to her and curling her up in his lap. She relaxed, leaning her head to his chest. “I’m sorry Inkar. I’ve been a bit out of it lately. Tired from work I guess, and I just snapped. You had every right to be angry with me. It won’t happen again.” 

Her sigh sounded as if a load had fallen of her shoulders, her kiss was gentle. Her body relaxed as he started to rub her back. 

“Was the office busy last week?” he mumbled after he pressed a kiss to her temple, giving her all the cues to talk. 

And she did, because it was what she seemed to have waiting for all week: attention. So she spoke, talking of difficult clients and harassing coworkers. She needed to vent, her professional mask of polite smiles and submission breaking until all venom had been spilled. Her coworkers would most likely not have recognized her. Most of them still wondered how she survived in the courtroom, they never saw the Pitbull that lived hidden under the skin. 

Every so often her eyes would search out his for a reaction, but he kept himself at a distance, simply listening until she was done. His only move was a nod every once in a while until all the venom had spilled. She then moaned in bliss, remarking that that had been what she needed before asking him about his week like some strange therapy session. He however had little to talk about. 

The bookshop had been the same as ever: people came without books and went with them. It had been routine, the only unusual thing was the visit of a very friendly dog that had come in with his owners. 

And the aquarium of course. 

She asked him about it, about what he had seen there, why he had decided to go today of all days. For a moment Yuri’s name had been on this tip of his tongue, but he had swallowed his name just as fast. Something in the back of his mind still wanted to keep it to himself for as long as he could. As if he was somehow scared that Inkar would ruin it if she had the chance. So he stayed vague, mentioning seeing an advert somewhere and just feeling like doing something different. Something his wife had no reason to question, and she didn’t. Instead they just exchanged small talk and smiles, their bodies curled into each other, until Inkar abruptly announced the start of another television program she loved to watch and switched channels. It was the end of the conversation, but when he wanted to get up she pulled him back. 

So he meekly stayed, his hand still plastered on her back, and his mind miles away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... This took me way longer than it should have. Partly because it is a huge chapter that I could not seem to split in a way that felt right, and partly because I just did not like the way it flowed (I still don't). I tried to rewrite some pieces but well. I'm just giving up on this chapter for now, hopefully next chapters will be better. 
> 
> I will try to get the next chapter done by Sunday, it is only 2000 words which is like half of this one, so it should take me less time... I hope. For now I've settled on a Wednesday and Sunday upload schedule, for at least until I have ten chapters, but it is anything but set in stone, I have a lot going on at the moment. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri was waiting for him in the corridor when he stepped out on the third floor. His lean body hidden in an oversized red hoodie, his hands in its pockets, and just as oversized grey sweatpants underneath. His feet were bare, one leaning against the corridor wall. 
> 
> He looked nothing like his usual elegance and strength, instead he looked somewhat adorable, but most off all vulnerable. There was no smile on his lips, no glint in his eyes. Instead there was worry, and a tiredness that seemed to have nothing to do with a lack of sleep. It looked like he could collapse in seconds. Otabek’s mind flashed back to the man’s reaction at the aquarium when he had been so uncertain and suspicious. This was worse. If Yuri showed this much vulnerability he was really feeling bad. Otabek could feel his own worry creep up on him, squeezing his heart tight in his chest.

His wife turned to him at the end of the episode, her arms sliding around his neck, her legs straddling his lap, her lips kissing their way up from his neck to his chin. She cradled his face as her lips met his, her fingers stroking gently. He kissed back, his lips moving against hers without any heat to it, his body frozen in disinterest. Not even when she let her fingers stroke the skin of his chest and her lips slid down his neck again. 

She tried again, batting her lashes and whispering words in his ear to turn him on. He let her do what she liked, his mind looking at the scene as if he was watching a movie, as if it were other people. He snapped out of it when she tried to pry open his belt, her motions feverish. He grasp her hands and took them off in a reflex, shaking his head as his eyes met hers. 

She smiled, her deer eyes filled with something close to mischief, then she moved to grab the hem of her shirt to take it off. He stopped her again, his hands firmly grasping hers to the point a voice in the back of his mind wondered if he was actually hurting her. He didn’t know if he really cared, he just wanted her to stop. And she did, her muscles frozen halfway in her motions. 

“I am tired Inkar. Let’s just go to sleep.” He mumbled, not meeting her eyes, his body still slumped in the sofa. 

Her face twisted in confusion, her hands struggling to get free. He let them go. 

“Aren’t men supposed to be wanting to have sex every moment they breathe?” She laughed. As if he was playing a game with her, a twinkle in her eyes, her hands back on his face again. “We haven’t had sex in weeks. Besides I’m fertile. If we want a baby we…” 

Otabek cut her off by lifting his hand between them, the other pinching the bridge of his nose, his face in a frown. Weariness and irritation overriding his lethargy. 

“You know how I feel about children, Inkar. Yes, they are great, but not at this moment. We cannot afford raising them. Let’s just wait a couple of years.” 

Her smile dropped. It looked as if he had slapped her, her eyes big and filling with tears. 

He sighed deeply, dreading the turn this conversation was going to have. She was the type of woman that thrived with children, having been the oldest of five. It seemed as if she saw it as her duty to raise some of her own. She had been suggesting it since the first day of their marriage, always insisting on forgetting about birth control. Otabek however did not want children, or at least not anymore.

In the first years of their marriage, when he had no trouble touching her, even tricked himself into liking it, he had let her do what she wanted, and not used any protection. It was pure luck that she had not gotten pregnant. And he was glad, because it was only later, when he had fallen of his cloud, that he realized what would have happened if there would have been children. It had chilled every desire for them, and began an elaborate list of excuses to the point that he couldn’t even remember what lies he had used and which ones he hadn’t. 

Because they could afford raising one, perhaps even two, Inkar had a great job as a lawyer, and he would be fine being a stay at home dad, even though Inkar would disagree. He just didn’t want to, it just felt wrong. It was the bomb underneath their marriage, he knew that eventually he would have to give in, yet he had been able to avoid it for so long that he hoped he could keep it up for even longer. 

The temperature in the room seemed to have dropped with his refusal. Inkar sped of his lap, moving as if she had been stung by a bee. She quickly readjusted her shirt, her eyes spitting fire. The room was eerily silent, Otabek waited for her to yell at him, but she just shook her head and left for the bedroom muttering angry Kazakh under her breath. 

He followed her movements with his eyes, as a prey animal would a predator, but did not get up. He never did. There was no point, the only way to appease her was to give in, and he would not. So he just sat and waited as the silence in the other room turned into angry shouting and complaints. He was called an impossible and useless husband, a good for nothing. She was asking for advice from what he thought was her mother, it had to be, Inkar would not call him names to anyone else. And advice she got. He heard her mention all sort of ridiculous things, like aphrodisiacs and traditional medicine to get him to have sex with her. He decided that she was just jerking his chain, she couldn’t be serious, and let it be, upping the volume of the television until the voices were drowned in noise. 

It took her an hour to calm down and reenter the living room, her eyes puffy and her cheeks tearstained. She locked eyes with him from the doorway, staring him down. She was guilt tripping him, but Otabek simply stared back, waiting to see what she would do. It took minutes, long enough for Otabek to wonder if she really was waiting for him to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness. Eventually she just shook her head and walked away to the bathroom, the door slamming behind her. The sound seemed to echo through the apartment. He sighed as a sudden exhaustion took over, rubbing his temples and cursing under his breath. 

“Time to call it a day.” He mumbled to himself, shutting the television off, and moving to the bedroom. The sheets felt cold when he dropped on them after stripping. He had not even considered going into the bathroom to brush his teeth as it would mean fighting the lioness in her den. Instead he stayed there in the dark and waited, his eyes closed and his arms wrapped around his pillow. It took about an hour for Inkar to join him, flicking off the light and stepping in on the other side off the bed. Their backs to each other, the inches between them feeling an ocean that could not be bridged.

The morning after, he got up without even looking and locked himself up in the bathroom to shave. When he got back Inkar was still in the bedroom, chucking clothes in a small suitcase. She glared at him when he stopped in the doorway, still rubbing the skin of his face dry with a towel. She was leaving for a weekend with her mother and would be back Sunday evening. There was no room for discussion, her voice venomous and final, as if she dared him to stop her. He did not. He told her to have fun instead. Which was, according to the look on her face, the wrong answer. Yet Otabek couldn’t care less, the coldness between them had stuck to his heart. If she wanted to be cold and mean so would he. He disliked it, and wanted to shake it off like a dog shook of the wet, but he needed it in their little war. They did not speak anymore, no attempts at empty kisses or touches or even goodbyes. After breakfast they just went their own way, he went off to work and she disappeared onto the streets. 

The weekend passed at an unbelievable speed afterwards. Otabek had forgotten how nice living alone could be. It was over way to soon. Inkar was back before he knew it, a fake smile on her face and a polite greeting as she came through the door as he was about to make himself dinner. She apologized for her behavior and showed him the boxes of food her mother had sent with her. There were Kazak dishes he had not seen in years, like Shek-shek, a cake made of deep-fried dough balls the size of hazelnuts. It made him smile beside himself. So when she asked if all was good, he nodded. Because all seemed to be as good as it would ever be. 

He was wrong in assuming that. 

Inkar became even more adamant on pleasing him in the days that followed. Doing whatever he would ask. She would be serving him more elaborate breakfasts, preparing lunch for him to take to work, offering to rub his feet after work, and smiling at him whenever she could. A serene smile that had his skin crawling and his irritation fly. It was insulting to think that she thought she could get what she wanted by following his every command. As if that was his ultimate dream. It was as if he was living with a servant, or some sort of retirement nurse… or more accurately a dog. 

Every day of the week became a struggle. He avoided his wife as much as he could. Staying polite but refusing every extra effort she wanted to make, to her great, although hidden, annoyance. It was thus a very pleasant and welcome surprise when Yuri started to text him on Tuesday. First to send the selfies they had taken, but it flowed into more random stuff: meaningless comments about their days, remarks about the fun they had at the aquarium and how much they were looking forward to the zoo. They were a very welcome distraction throughout the day, relieving tension and irritation that returned the minute he came home. 

His excitement for Friday grew with every message he got, a smile plastered on his face while reading all of them, even silly ones, like the ones asking what he was about to eat. So it felt as if he was going to be sick when he read the message that was waiting for him when he got out of the shower on Friday morning. 

_Hey, sorry I can’t come, my cat is sick I have to get to the vet._

Otabek swallowed, feeling his heart skip a beat and nausea in his stomach. He could already feel the walls creep up to him. The thought of being inside all day made his skin crawl. A fact that surprised him as he had been doing nothing else for the past four years. Until his phone buzzed again an hour later, while he still was trying to come up with a response. 

_Unless you want to come over and watch a movie instead? I have to “monitor her”. Would like the company._

A relieved sigh he did not know he was holding passed his lips, making Inkar look up from the dough she was kneading. She wanted to bake him something special for dinner and had searched far and wide to find some special Kazakh ingredients to go with the traditional Kazakh bread she was making. A recipe from his mother. A recipe with a long history, a comfort food associated with kisses on scraped knees and sweet words. Another one of her attempts to get in his good book. She was working the dough while humming, already dressed for the mosque, her hijab a pale yellow her long-sleeved, modest, dress black. 

“Something wrong?” she asked, the ever present sweet smile on her face, her fingers coated in white dough. There was flower everywhere, but not a spec of it on her clothes. A fact that impressed him, but did not surprise him. 

“Nothing, a delivery at work went wrong... I will have to fix that tomorrow. Not looking forward to it.” He mumbled back, while typing a response to Yuri, asking for the address. 

“Ah, I see.” She said and turned her back on him again, kneading and humming.

His phone pinged, an address popping up on the screen. He did not hesitate for a second. Otabek jumped up and gave a quick kiss on his wives temple before head and heading to the door. He was already halfway through when he turned and wished her a nice day, then slammed the door behind him. 

Otabek could not keep in a loud groan as he took a deep breath of morning air the moment he was outside. He had decided to walk. Yuri’s house did not seem very far, besides he felt the need for fresh air. So he wrapped his leather jacket closer to banish the chill breeze and started moving, passing streets of nice red brick homes and children playing on the streets with their parents keeping a watchful eye. 

He greeted a few familiar faces, neighbors and friends from Inkar. Yet he did not stop once for a chat, neither did they try to stop him. Nodding only at each other in passing. Still, he was happy when he stopped being recognized, his pace getting faster and his smile getting wider. He was actually feeling good when he halted in front of a stately appearing red brick building. A tall apartment complex with decorative iron wrought balcony railings. A place he could imagine a lead dancer to live, but he checked the address, a second time anyway before pushing the bell on the rows of house numbers next to the door. 

“Yes?” 

Yuri’s voice creaked through the intercom, sounding nothing like he usually did. Deformed by both the machine and on top of that an unusual quietness. Something was wrong. 

“It’s me.” He mumbled in reply, looking up when he heard the door click indicating that it had unlocked. “Thank you.”

There was no more response, the man seemed to have moved away from the microphone as soon as he had seen Otabek through the camera. Neither was the man waiting for him when he stepped through the door and let it fall back into the lock. He was alone. The lobby of the building was surprisingly empty, even the desk where he assumed there would usually be a guard of some sort was abandoned. He was just as surprised to find the inside of the building more modern then the outside would make people believe. There was an elevator and everything looked fresh and new. The white paint on the wall, the barely worn carpet on the floor, the abstract art on the wall all seemed to have been recently updated and added to the luxurious atmosphere. A building for people with success in life, or so Otabek guessed. It made him feel uncomfortable, as if he did not belong. It  
urged him to move, walking straight to the elevator after a last glace. 

Yuri was waiting for him in the corridor when he stepped out on the third floor. His lean body hidden in an oversized red hoodie, his hands in its pockets, and just as oversized grey sweatpants underneath. His feet were bare, one leaning against the corridor wall. 

He looked nothing like his usual elegance and strength, instead he looked somewhat adorable, but most off all vulnerable. There was no smile on his lips, no glint in his eyes. Instead there was worry, and a tiredness that seemed to have nothing to do with a lack of sleep. It looked like he could collapse in seconds. Otabek’s mind flashed back to the man’s reaction at the aquarium when he had been so uncertain and suspicious. This was worse. If Yuri showed this much vulnerability he was really feeling bad. Otabek could feel his own worry creep up on him, squeezing his heart tight in his chest. 

Before he could open his lips to speak however, Yuri had already moved. He had turned without greeting him, marching back to the open door of what Otabek assumed was his apartment, he walked in and left the door ajar behind him. Not glancing behind him once. Otabek did not know what Yuri expected him to do, the change in attitude was suspicious and frightening, he followed quickly but cautiously, closing the door behind him. 

Yuri was already on the white leather sofa in the center of the room. His knees raised in front of him, and his arms curled around them. He was busy on his phone, but every so often his eyes would wander to the windowsill beneath the two huge windows that flooded the room with the light of the afternoon sun. His cat was curled up in the cat bed sound sleeping. The animal seemed to be perfectly fine at first glance, but the longer Otabek looked at them the more uncomfortable it looked, breathing laboriously. He glanced back to Yuri whose eyes were practically latched to his pet. 

“What is wrong with her?” he asked, while he shrugged off his coat and kicked off his shoes. His eyes only breaking away from the man when he placed them on the coat hanger and the shoe rack sitting on the wall of the small entryway. 

Yuri did not reply, not until Otabek had walked the dark wooden floor and sat down next to him on the sofa. Only then did the man look at him, and let out a deep sigh. 

“I don’t know. Natasha started vomiting this morning and she just hasn’t stopped.” 

His voice was uncharacteristically quiet a tremor of panic carefully hidden underneath, his body curled to a small ball. 

“Did you go to the vet?” A nod. “What did he say?”

Another deep sigh, Yuri’s arms squeezing tighter around his knees, his knuckles white where his one hand grabbed his other wrist. 

“That it is most likely caused by me changing her diet. I bought a different brand of food because of reasons. She says that it has most likely upset her stomach and that she should be fine as soon as it has all passed her system one way or another. Problem is, I own a monster. She has pretty much inhaled all of it, so it might take a while. What a mess.” 

His body folded back into himself, his forehead resting on his knees. Otabek’s hand was already raised to touch him, when Yuri took a very deep breath out of nowhere. As if by magic he unfolded himself and shook his head, messing up his already wild looking hair.

In front of Otabek’s eyes he just transformed. The anxious boy disappearing and being replaced by the proud man, his spine straightened and steeled, a faked smile playing with his lips. It would have fooled Otabek, if only the smile had reached the man’s exhausted eyes. 

“It can’t be helped. Sulking isn’t going to solve my problem. What do you want to watch?”

The tremor had left Yuri’s voice and the volume had gone up. It was as if a mask was placed over his face and emotions. The ease of it had surprised and shocked Otabek. But then again he was reminded of Yuri’s words at the aquarium. That he needed to be strong to survive the competition. He simply couldn’t afford to lose. So he had to keep up the confidence even when he was wounded. And from what Otabek could tell, Yuri had become rather good at it. 

It took him until halfway their first movie that he realized how frail the mask really was. As soon as the man thought Otabek wasn’t looking, his smile would dip, his spine would bent and his gaze would slip to his cat, only to return when he noticed Otabek’s eyes on him. Yet the slips came more often, and eventually, by the start of the second movie, it faded altogether. 

It reminded Otabek of the man Yuri had been in the aquarium. It made him realize that there were layers, so many layers, beside the elegant and confident Yuri that everyone saw. That Yuri was his outer shell and most of his personality, but there were also insecurities, hidden layers he did not want anyone to see. Yet layers he was starting to be fine with showing to him, a person he barely knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done! I had a couple of issues when making a draft, so let me know if anything doesn't look right and I will see if I can fix it. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He squeezed again, then, fearing that he had made Yuri uncomfortable, retreated. But Yuri did not want just a squeeze. The man crossed the imaginary line to curl against Otabek’s side instead, his face flushed bright, and his head snuggled in Otabek’s armpit. Otabek’s eyes widened a bit in surprise, but he did not push him off as he was perhaps supposed to. Instead he draped his arm over the man’s shoulders and pulled him close, enjoying the warmth of the man’s body as it seeped into Otabek’s skin, his heart pounding in a way he could not really identify. 
> 
> Surprise? Anxiety? Something else? 
> 
> Otabek was not sure. He just knew that he felt a blush on his cheekbones as he looked down at Yuri cuddled close to his chest. It seemed as if the man tried to find words to speak, his gaze connecting with Otabek’s for fleeting seconds at a time, but no words came, only that bright blush. Eventually he just sighed and seemed to give up, resting his forehead against Otabek’s black tee-shirt.

They watched until Otabek’s back muscles became stiff and painful of all the sitting and he loudly declared a break. It was utter bliss when he jumped up and stretched, the groan on his lips loud. He swore he could feel Yuri’s eyes on his back, but when he glanced over his shoulder they were downcast. Otabek just shrugged it off and grabbed his glass before moving into the open kitchen.

There was some mess, the low counter that divided the small kitchen and the rest of the apartment had a stack of dirty dishes on it and used mugs and glasses. The surface was clean however and the amount could not have been much more than two days’ worth. Most likely Yuri had just been too busy with his cat to clean. Most people probably would not even have called it a mess or even have noticed it, but Inkar would have been shouting at him had it been his stuff. 

“Would you like something?” 

Yuri jumped, as if he had not realized that Otabek had moved, before glancing over his shoulder. Otabek raised his glass, then turned to the fridge that sat against the wall, next to another work bench and the stove. 

“Juice?”

“Bring the jug.” It was silent for a second, then, as Otabek turned, he saw Yuri shake his head in confusion. When their eyes met again the man was frowning. “Why did you think you could serve me drinks? You’re the guest.” 

Otabek simply shrugged. He wanted to tell Yuri that he just wanted to take care of him. That he disliked seeing his friend hurt, the words were on the tip of his tongue, but something stopped him. Instead he stayed silent as he poured them a drink, then left for the bathroom break. 

Yuri was no longer on the sofa when Otabek returned. The man had moved to the windowsill and looked as if the world did not exist for him. His eyes were too focused on his cat, a fragile smile on his lips. Natasha was purring contently and loudly. So loud that Otabek had no trouble hearing her from across the room. It was as if she tried to convince them not to worry, as she seemed to be enjoying herself. She would have done it too, if only she had moved more in the time Otabek had been there, but she had not. Neither did she manage to make the worry disappear from her owner’s eyes. 

When Otabek joined them those eyes looked up for a second. If Yuri had been a dog Otabek guessed that his ears would have been flattened and his teeth bared. Not in aggression but in defense. There was a guardedness in how he followed Otabek’s hands as he scratched Natasha behind the ears. His muscles seemed to be taut, ready to tell him off at the first signs of distress from his pet. The cat however seemed oblivious. She butted Otabek’s hand over and over until he scratched her some more. However when he stopped and pulled his hand away she did not complain. The suspicion however never left. He felt like rising his hands above his head to show Yuri that he was harmless, but instead he leaned back and looked out of the window for a bit. 

Light was fading from streets similar to the neighborhood he lived in. The windows in the rows of brick houses were lit one by one, as night fell. The streets filled with cars and people walking past, children playing in the streets. Dogs barking. It was almost as if he never left his house. When he turned however the difference was day and night. He had to admit that the color scheme was similar. Yuri’s walls were just as white as Otabek’s were, decorated with a few black and white photos of ballet productions and a couple of antique looking sketches of ballet dancers made with charcoal. 

That however was the only part of the room that was similar and calm. The rest of the room looked vibrant and chaotic. A big dark wooden bookshelf was placed to the wall on his right. It was filled to the brim with almost everything except actual literature. There were books, but most of them were art books and coffee table books. More prominent however were the little knickknacks. There were Venetian masks, Matryoshka dolls, antique looking ballet shoes and a pair of Japanese lion dogs. The clutter and color seemed to have spread throughout the room, as paint or ink. The small two person dinner table on the opposite side of the open kitchen was made of lighter wood and stacked with mail and papers overlaying each other like a big jigsaw. Two clear vases with big bouquets of red roses stood among them. Cat toys in a variety of color were strewn over the bright red Persian carpet, which was fraying on some spots, most likely because of claw damage. It in turn covered part of the creaky dark wooden floor. A big plant sat in the corner of the room next to the bookshelf, the remaining corner had a scratching pole standing tall. 

It was busy, there were bare spots, but it felt as if every space was filled. It was a house that was lived in, a home for someone who felt safe, for someone who did not get bothered when his cat destroyed the furniture, or if the sink was filled with dishes. Even the smell, a mix of roses and lavender, was relaxing and soothing. It was a place to recharge after stressful and busy days, enjoying the last rays of sun of the day through the huge windows. As Otabek was doing at that moment. 

It was as if time passed slowly in that room, but in a good way. He could almost forget that the fading light meant that he would have to leave. That Inkar would be home. He was however reluctant to leave. His own temptation of staying in what felt like a sanctuary mixing with dread as he saw Yuri’s exhausted gaze looking out of the window as well. He realized that he doubted that Yuri would be fine on his own. The man would survive of course, but it felt wrong to leave him on his own. 

The man moved before Otabek could speak however, leaving him behind in the windowsill as he moved to the sofa. Otabek followed in silence, both of them sitting down cross-legged on their own half of an invisible border. They went back to the movie without speaking, but Otabek was unable to get back into the story. Every so often he would glance at Yuri, before catching himself and forcing himself back to the screen. Yuri did the same, only he kept looking to the windowsill and back before leaning on the armrest again looking like a sad dog and tugging on Otabek’s feelings. He tried to ignore it, reminding himself that Yuri was a grown man, and that they barely knew each other, but eventually he just no longer could. He gave the man a little squeeze on the shoulder before he could second guess himself and lose the courage. 

“She will be all right.” 

He squeezed again then, fearing that he had made Yuri uncomfortable, retreated. But Yuri did not want just a squeeze. The man crossed the imaginary line to curl against Otabek’s side instead, his face flushed bright, and his head snuggled in Otabek’s armpit. Otabek’s eyes widened a bit in surprise, but he did not push him off as he was perhaps supposed to. Instead he draped his arm over the man’s shoulders and pulled him close, enjoying the warmth of the man’s body as it seeped into Otabek’s skin, his heart pounding in a way he could not really identify. 

Surprise? Anxiety? Something else? 

Otabek was not sure. He just knew that he felt a blush on his cheekbones as he looked down at Yuri cuddled close to his chest. It seemed as if the man tried to find words to speak, his gaze connecting with Otabek’s for fleeting seconds at a time, but no words came, only that bright blush. Eventually he just sighed and seemed to give up, resting his forehead against Otabek’s black tee-shirt. 

A voice in the back of his mind urged Otabek to speak, but he too did not seem able to find the words. They seemed to hide in the white noise of his mind, as there were too many thoughts at once to focus. So he did not even try, instead rubbing Yuri’s back absentmindedly in the hope to unclench his tightly knotted muscles. It worked. He could feel the man relax after a few minutes, his eyelids closed. It seemed as if all was well, as if they could stay there for hours, and, for some reason Otabek could not really understand, he wouldn’t have minded. It was tranquility of a kind he had not experienced in months, as if in a dream. Until Yuri sighed and cracked it. The man looked up, the words passing his lips close to soundless, his face so sad and helpless it stabbed Otabek straight in the heart. 

“I just hate it when she is sick and I can’t do anything about it.” 

For a second Otabek thought Yuri would burst into tears. Before tears could escape his damp eyes however, Yuri pinched the pale skin of his wrist. Hard. Hard enough for Otabek to flinch, and a red spot to appear. Otabek just acted, heard himself speak words before he could wrap his mind around what he was doing, or how Yuri could interpret what he was offering. 

“Do you want me to stay the night? I could help getting her to the vet if she needs to?” 

The man blinked. Once. Twice. Before he frowned and cast his eyes, his fingers rubbing the skin of his wrists. It was silent for a bit, until he made up his mind, the man’s voice reduced to a whisper. 

“I would like that. I think I would be in too much of a panic to think. Only… I don’t have a spare bed…” 

Otabek just shrugged, giving a little pat on Yuri’s, surprisingly soft, blonde hair, his fingers tingling from the contact. 

“I will sleep on the sofa, I’ve had worse. I’m sure we will be fine though. She looks sick but not that bad. We will probably snore the night away. Let’s watch the rest of that movie. ”

They did in silence, Yuri leaning against his chest until he suddenly broke away, jumping the invisible divide back to his side of the sofa. Otabek froze just as sudden, following him with his eyes but Yuri did not look at him as he settled. He missed the warmth as soon as it had left him, but he was not brave enough to pull Yuri back. So they sat with an invisible ocean between them. Staring at the screen as if they were on two different planets. Until Natasha suddenly jumped down from the seating into Yuri’s lap. It wasn’t an energetic leap, far from it, but it was enough to make Yuri smile. A smile that could lit up the entire city with its brightness.

As she settled in Yuri’s lap and purred it dawned on Otabek that she was obviously doing well enough that staying the night wasn’t that necessary anymore. But mentioning going home wasn’t an option in his mind. He wanted to stay, especially when he read Inkar’s reply to a text he had sent her, telling her he would stay the night at a friend’s place. It read: 

_Have fun! I will see you tomorrow. I love you x._

He couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows. Perhaps he wasn’t being fair, perhaps she DID want him to have fun and was it him reading more in the words then there actually was… However, he couldn’t shake the idea that her loving words hid fuming anger. He just couldn’t forget the feast she promised to prepare for him, a feast she probably had already finished making. On top of skipping that he also was leaving her alone for the night, something she loathed. But she wouldn’t tell him, she wouldn’t let go of her meek wife theater. 

Whatever the truth was, it was making his skin crawl in irritation and anger. He considered calling her and shout at her. It was so incredibly tempting. But then the irritation melted away as he took a deep breath and caught a mix of roses, lavender, cat and Yuri’s aftershave. It was enough to distract him. It wasn’t gone, he could still feel his blood boiling under the surface, but he also realized that it was not the time and place to throw a fit, no matter how much he wanted to. 

Because Inkar was not there. Otabek would not see her until the day after. There was no need to get worked up about her. She had no right to be on his mind there. It was just him, Yuri and Natasha for that night. His wife already got too much of his attention during the week. So he switched off his phone and slipped it back in his pocket. The tension that had arrived so suddenly, disappeared just as quick. He could convince himself a bit too easily that his wife did not exist, and sink back into the cushions. 

Perhaps it shouldn’t have been that easy. Perhaps he should’ve felt bad. However, he did not. His wife was pushed away from his mind like she did not exist. His mind pulled back to the movie in front of him. 

And it stayed there. Until his stomach started to growl loudly, louder than even the television. Yuri burst out laughing without warning. The first loud honest laughter Otabek had heard all day. He had not realized how much he had missed it. The grin on his face must have made him look like an absolute dork, but Otabek couldn’t care, it stuck. Even when the laughter turned to a smile, a remnant of the usual spark visible in Yuri’s eyes as he shoved a laptop in Otabek’s lap and scooted over. They were having pizza, or that was what the pizza option selection screen told him. He wasn’t going to complain though and just filled it in before grabbing a ten dollar bill from his pocket and held it out to Yuri. Who didn’t take it. The man looked at it instead in a mixture of disdain and disgust. Otabek frowned and waved with it, as if that would get him interested, but Yuri did not move. Until Otabek grew impatience in the end and grabbed the man’s hand to push it in. 

“For the pizza.” He clarified with a frown, as Yuri stared at the bill in his hand with the same unwavering disgust. He looked almost feline when doing it. 

“Why do you think you are paying for yours?” His green blue eyes clashed with Otabek’s the usual intimidation back, but Otabek did not budge. 

“Because we have one each?”

“You payed the aquarium tickets! You going to be broke if you keep this up! Here!”

A load groan rose from Yuri’s throat as he tried to push the bill back in Otabek’s hand, which he held far out of reach. They had jumped up from the couch and were now standing opposing each other in front of the television. Yuri wasn’t that much shorter, but short enough for it to work. For a second it seemed as if Yuri actually contemplated jumping for it, but the wrinkle in his nose told Otabek that he deemed it beneath him. It did not mean that he gave up, instead he gave him the most exhausted and disappointed glare ever. 

Otabek knew Yuri long enough to know that the man did not want to let it slide, but on the other hand did not want to make a fuss either. He had him at an impasse, and Otabek loved it. Perhaps he was perhaps a bit too smug with himself, but he was enjoying himself too much to care. He could see the man think how to win this battle, how to return this bill. There were gears grinding in his brain, however in the end the man just threw his hands in the air and walked back to the couch to finish the order. All the while muttering Russian under his breath. Swearing revenge. Otabek just laughed. 

“Bring it on.”

“Oh I will. You will regret it. ” 

“Do you want to watch movies the entire evening?” Otabek asked, the laughter still in his chest, to distract them both from their little feud. 

Yuri rose his eyebrows in response, not looking up from his laptop where he was checking his email. 

“I don’t think I have anything else to do here. I usually sleep in early or go out so I don’t really have a lot of reasons to have a lot to do. I do have to sleep in early though, so you can do what you want… but quietly?” 

“Yeah no problem. I have to work at ten anyway, so sleeping in early might not even be the worst of ideas.”

“Same, if she is better that is.” He glanced at the cat that had repositioned itself in the windowsill and was dozing off again. Otabek wasted no time in changing the subject. 

“You train quite a lot. Is that normal?” 

A non-saying hum in the back of Yuri’s throat. His eyes still on the screen. 

“Usually it’s a bit less. But new production coming up, so it is not just training. It is costume fittings, interviews, photoshoots for posters, rehearsals. Just a long list of things to do. I am glad that I have a day off every once in a while.” He groaned softly, rubbing his face for a second or two. “I just grow tired from thinking of my to do list, but it always works out in the end. After the premiere you just float on pride and adrenaline. I wouldn’t want to do anything else.” 

A smile replaced the scowl, good memories most likely replacing the ideas of things to come. Otabek loved the happiness he saw in that sweet smile, even more then the unusual smug confidence. Then the man shut his laptop and looked at him. 

"How about you?" 

Otabek felt as if he had tripped and face planted. He should not have been that surprised by the question but he was. He wasn’t sure which words he should use, or what they would betray. In the end he just took a breath and let the words pick themselves. 

"The bookshop is fun. The lady who owns it is really nice. She is this old lady that brings cookies from home and everything. What else is there to say? The hours are good, I have five days a week, enough to live from, and if I need more I just have to ask. It’s an independent bookstore so the team is very small, it’s just me, the owner and two mothers who have growing kids. One of them has some serious health problems, so that has upped my hours drastically. I spend more time there then I do at home.”

Because Inkar was never there. Because, though he had to lie every so often, he could be himself or a more accurate version of himself. He had made it look like he was asked to up his hours, but in truth he had asked for them himself. It gave him room to breathe, a place where he could be with books and, mostly, likeminded people. It was a safe haven. Sure, Inkar would visit sometimes when she had an unexpected day off, but as a lawyer unexpected days off were rare. 

"Other hobbies? Sports?"

Otabek shrugged, hoping it would look nonchalant, and not desperate or pitiful. Because in truth: he was very close to a hermit. On Sunday’s he worked out at home, and sometimes he would go for a walk, or shop with Inkar, but the only thing that would really make him really relax was reading books or go for a long ride. 

"Not really. I used to go to the gym, but I didn’t feel like going anymore. So I work out at home on Sunday’s. Eh, I guess I used to make music a long time ago but I don’t anymore. So yeah, I’m a boring person, just reading books. Sometimes visit a museum, or go for a ride that kind of stuff, but not much.”

"Sounds lonely."

“Nah, I have a roommate. I am well taken care off.”

He hoped that Yuri did not notice how cynical his response was. Because he himself could taste the acid in his words. He could only hope that Yuri did not find them too fishy. 

"Ah, yeah you mentioned him before. Is he any fun?"

For a second he did not know what to do. A voice in the back of his mind told him to correct Yuri, to spill the beans. But like he did not feel like telling Inkar about Yuri, he also did not feel like telling Yuri about Inkar. It was the other tiny voice in the back of his mind, the voice he had not heard in months, perhaps even years, that told him that Yuri was his not Inkar’s. That she had no place there. It was paranoid, and ridiculous, but he listened to that angry voice anyway. As adding Inkar to the mix would shut him down somehow, as it had done multiple times before. He did not want to defend his choice of friends to her, did not want to listen to her voiced disdain. It never seemed to have been intentional on her side, but unavoidable nonetheless as he never made friends with people she deemed worthy. So keeping them separate seemed his best bet. He preferred to keep the bliss a little while longer. 

“He is, but I am very happy to have met you. I had forgotten how much fun it is to spend time with someone else.”

"You’re welcome….. I am glad to have met you too." 

Yuri’s face flushed red as he mumbled the last words almost sub vocally. He tried to act nonchalant, but he was adorably flustered. When Otabek met his eyes, they would not focus on his, Yuri’s gaze was all over, never settling on one point.

When he finally met Otabek’s gaze there was a look in his eyes that had Otabek’s stomach in knots. Before Yuri could open his mouth to speak however, the bell rang. Yuri jumped up as if he was stung, turning on his heel after a few steps to point at him telling him to stay. 

Otabek snorted besides himself, the moment broken. He followed his host as he walked to the little entrance hallway, then looked down at the table. A surprised snort escaped him followed by a shake of the head as he saw the abandoned ten dollar bill on the table. 

As if the poor thing had been cursed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done, sorry it took me so long. I keep forgetting how much time editing takes and how fragile my mental health is at the moment. Nitpicking at my every possible mistake, then knowing that I most likely left a lot more in, as I am Dutch and not a native speaker, is just a bit too much for me every now and again. Because of that I decided to not set as harsh a deadline for myself as I did before. I can't do twice a week, so I am aiming for every Sunday but I can't guarantee it because I have had a lot of bad weeks lately. It is very annoying because I really want to finish this so I can work on some other fic drabbles and ideas which really excites me, but I can't because if I start now I will never finish this. 
> 
> Sorry for the longish rant. Hope you enjoyed!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri however did not seemed to mind. He was in the middle of the chaos, like an eye of the storm, laying on the queen size bed, curled up on his side in the sheets, his arms wrapped around a pillow. The man was sound asleep, his hair an absolute mess and his mouth slightly ajar.
> 
> He looked completely unaware and adorably at ease. As if there wasn’t a care in the world, or at least not in his shaded bedroom world. The only disturbance indicating that there was a world outside; a single ray of morning sunshine brave enough to peep through the heavy black curtains and illuminate his skin. Otabek could not keep himself from tracing the man’s muscles up his back to his shoulders and then to his face. He was staring, his hands were tingling to reach out, to touch, even though he knew he shouldn’t. It took significant willpower to not break the rules anyway though, his face flushed red in embarrassment. He mentally cursed his lack of manners and prayed to whatever God that heard him, for his body not to react. Yuri would drag him through hell if it would, with his teasing smiles, and comments.

The moment faded as if it had never happened. Neither Otabek nor Yuri brought it up when the man returned from the front door with two pizza boxes. Instead they passed their meal with small talk. Otabek heard him out about the nutcracker, it was the way to stay silent and have Yuri do all the talking, so he had no opportunity to slip up about Inkar. Because talking Yuri did, especially when Otabek hesitantly admitted that he knew very little about the story. 

It turned out to be Yuri’s favorite. He spend what felt like a whole hour describing the story, the music, the costumes, the décor, everything. It should have been boring, but it was not. Yuri’s excitement was too addictive. The concentration on his face, and the energetic movements of his hands as he described the music and the costumes, was too adorable. What he could not mime he would illustrate with pictures of previous editions in the many books Otabek had been eyeing earlier. When he was done with those he went on explaining movements, jumping off the couch to the center of the room to demonstrate them. The poses and moves were supple, flowing like water, a serene but focused expression on Yuri’s face. He seemed to lose himself, humming a melody which Otabek guessed, was usually accompanying the scene Yuri preformed. It seemed as if he was in another world, completely unaware of Otabek watching him, until he abruptly stopped, his hands slightly raised as if he was about to lift someone. There was a goofy smile on his lips and a faint blush on his cheekbones. The man coughed before lifting his head in pride and marched back to the couch. As if he could pretend that he had meant to lose track of his surroundings so completely, as if it had been part of the show. 

Otabek was not that easily fooled. 

"It is less spectacular without women. You know, as it lacks lifts, but you get the idea.” Yuri mumbled when he had sat down again, his pizza filled mouth hidden behind his hand. “And don’t forget that you are supposed to look at the women anyway. The men are supposed to show them off. Poor us.”

A snort escaped Otabek’s lips before he could catch it. Yuri just had to be joking. How anyone would be able to look at the women while Yuri was dancing was far beyond his comprehension. He was certain it was beyond his capabilities. Not that he told Yuri that, nor that he really had the chance as Yuri had gone back to talking already. 

“So to conclude my massive rant about why the Nutcracker is awesome: I love it. It is fun, it is energetic, the children involved absolutely love it and it is a Boston classic in holiday season. I am still very sad and annoyed that I could only do a minor role last year, but I had to recover from an injury first. This year however! I’ll show them what I can do.”

Otabek could only shake his head as Yuri settled down chomping away on the last pieces of pizza.

"That was beautiful already."

A scowl. If one could glare daggers Otabek would have been bleeding. 

"I told you that you know nothing. Don’t praise me until you have seen the full and real deal. It is pathetic."

"So perfectionistic."

"That’s how you succeed in life Otabek." 

He had to admit that Yuri was most likely right on that one. Not that he had anything to be perfectionistic about. In university he had. He had studied, he had gotten great grades, but it all had fell apart when Inkar assured him that there was no need for him to get a job. She would earn more than enough for him to do whatever he wanted. If he would never work again it would not be seen as harmful, at least not by Inkar. When he had told his mother she had given him odd looks and asked him if he was sure. If he really did not wish to pursue a PHD. He had shrugged at the time, perfectly happy with Inkar taking the lead. She was the eldest of them after all, she was already on her way to becoming a lawyer. It felt as her right… It was in the time that he still lived on a pink cloud, when he knew that his life wasn’t perfect but it was fine. Now it felt as if Inkar had out sped him by being born earlier, and while he knew not to be sad over spilt milk, he still couldn’t help feeling a little pang of envy every once in a while. Especially as it was the only unorthodox thing in their very conservative marriage. 

He almost physically jumped when Yuri started to wave his hand in front of his face. Yuri lost it, Otabek could just glare in annoyance, it following Yuri all the way from the table to the kitchen as he started to clear the table, before Otabek followed suit by snatching the boxes off the table. When he offered to do some dishes however, he was glared down again, after which Yuri started to lecture him on the definition of “guest” like an angry grandma. He let Yuri rage a bit, but in the end he just raised his hands and turned on his heels, walking back to the couch while shouting “sorry.” 

They watched one more movie together, until Yuri started to have to fight against sleep. He fought for a few minutes but in the end he got up, and, after brushing his teeth and giving Otabek a blanket, pillow and toothbrush, wished him good night before disappearing into the bedroom. 

Otabek watched him close the door behind him, then switched off the television, grabbed the toothbrush and slipped into the bathroom. The scent of roses and lavender was even thicker there, then it was in the living room. It was as if Otabek stood in a flower field of some sort. Once again he was impressed by the space he found there. The room had black tiles on the floor which felt warm to the soles of his feet, on his left side there was a long sink along the wall, with a small wooden cabinet next to it. On the opposite wall there was a standing cabinet with towels a toilet and in the far corner a shower. But the centerpiece, the star of the show, was the bathtub. It sat against the back wall of the windowless room against a wall adorned with a modern take on a mosaic, a variety of blue, green, blue-green and lavender tiles, rows of multicolored bottles on its edge. 

But the most surprising of it wasn’t the size, or the expenses, which Otabek guessed had to be significant, no it was the care. The room was tidy and clean, not sterile, but it was obvious that it was Yuri’s sanctuary, and Otabek could understand why. It was impossible not to feel relaxed, with the scent and warmth making him sluggish. Otabek wondered if Yuri bathed in rose petals, as the scent was so heavy. He could almost see the man doing it, sitting in the bathtub only wearing rose petals and clear water. 

His face was bright red as he pulled on the reigns of his thoughts and turned to face the mirror above the sink. His bronze skin looking flushed. He felt embarrassed, creepy and invasive, but he could not get the thoughts of Yuri, naked, covered in water and red petals from his mind. Not even when he splashed water in his face to cool down. The only thing he could do was thank some god for not giving him a boner, shake his head, and brush his teeth. 

When he came back, his face still feeling warm, Natasha had taken his spot. She looked at him with big yellow eyes, her fluffy legs folded underneath her to form a perfect loaf. Otabek felt bad that he had to move her, but exhaustion made his body feel heavy. He needed sleep. So he lifted the cat as gentle as he could, even pressing a kiss to her head when she butted his chin, then transported her to the cat bed. She looked vaguely annoyed with him, but settled easily. When he looked over his shoulder after walking away her eyes were already closed. 

He stripped of his shirt while walking back to the sofa, throwing it on a dinner table chair. His pants and socks followed in a messy pile, before he jumped on the sofa and slipped under the thin blanket, his arms wrapped around the pillow. He pressed his eyes shut and tried to relax, sleep eluded him however. He was very aware of his surroundings. The dripping of the tap in the kitchen, the snoring of the cat, and above all the idea of being in a different house. In Yuri’s house. His mind refused to settle, hopping back and forth between subjects, strangely expecting Inkar to come join him as sleep finally fogged over his mind. But she didn’t, even though he could swear he heard something move in the background. A door opening, footsteps nearing. As he was almost asleep he could believe nothing else then it being Inkar, so he did not open his eyes as the lights were shut off and a door was closed and he let himself drift away. 

He woke with a start the next morning when a small weight jumped down on his stomach, pressing the air out of his lungs, his eyes wide open. It was Natasha. The cat moved in circles over his chest, touched her nose to his, and finally dropped down. Her furry tail slapped his skin over and over in lazy movements and she was purring, her eyes closed. When he touched her she rolled over on her back, her black fur sticking out in all direction. She looked as soft as she felt on his skin. He took a moment to just take in the moment, the sky outside the window was bright and blue, and the city seemed to be in full swing. However he had no intention of moving. He felt at peace with a cat on his chest and peaceful silence in the apartment. It seemed as if he did not move the tranquility would not slip between his fingers. It was a silly thought that he shook away as he grabbed his phone. It was eight thirty AM, plenty of time to just be lazy a little while longer. So he did, dropping his phone again and scratching the cat behind the ears. 

The cat seemed to do better than the evening before, she was playing with his fingers, swiping them with her paws. It seemed as if they had swapped moods, as his body felt stiff and painful from a night sleep. It was a reminder of why he preferred a bed and tried to keep friendly with his wife. A groan escaped his lips as he tried to sit up, his lower back throbbing uncomfortably. He felt terrible but he was relieved to know that Natasha at least was doing fine. 

"Good morning." He grumbled to her, his voice still rough with sleep. "You seem to feel better don’t you?" 

The cat kept butting his hand until he gently clasped her to his chest and swung his legs down. She froze when he moved but did not fight him, settling back in his lap as if nothing had happened when he let her go again. She only loudly protested when he stopped the ear scratches to rub the sleep out of his eyes with a knuckle. It was then, when his eyes were free of the last traces of sleep, that he saw what Natasha had done to the apartment. 

The wooden floor was strewn with puddles of half-digested food. Most of them not more than yellow water. They had a foul odor but none of them seemed concerning, there was no blood or unexpected colors. He should have felt annoyed or disgusted by the thought that he would have to clean it all up, but he felt mostly pity. And surprised. She had been vomiting for what seemed to be the entire night and he had not noticed it the slightest. 

“Oh, you poor thing.” He mumbled to her, pressing a quick kiss to her head, and placing her on the sofa. He then waddled over to the table, pulled on his jeans and used the bathroom. She was still there when he got back, moving only when he walked into the kitchen in search of cleaning supplies. She followed him, weaving between his legs and screaming cat screams. When he ignored her and instead dug into the cabinets, she jumped, with as much grace as her owner had, to rub her body against his arm. Then screamed some more. 

“No, I am not going to feed you. I am going to clean up your mess. Your owner can decide if you need food. Don’t manipulate your guest in an overfeeding scheme, I won’t have it.”

It did not help, she kept rubbing, meowing until he started to clean. She then decided that the paper towels he was trying to use, were an acceptable toy, jumping on it and shredding it whenever he gave her the chance. He found himself laughing and shaking his head in minutes, it was not the most efficient cleaning job he had ever done, but he was happy to see her so playful. The sickness seemed to have completely passed and forgotten. 

Cleaning up took him a while, as Natasha had gracefully hidden her vomit in some creative spots. The cat felt no guilt though, instead she watched him work like a queen, then returned to her guilt tripping agenda when he was putting stuff away. He grabbed her instead, setting off towards her owner’s room while taking care to watch the floor to avoid any puddles he might have missed. 

The bedroom door creaked when he pushed it open with his foot, revealing a room that looked as if a bomb had gone off. There was stuff everywhere. Dancing shoes and clothes covered the floor. Papers and posters stacked high with books and journals on the large wooden desk on the left side of the room. An antique looking vanity with an old ornate mirror in a wrought iron frame next to a big antique looking dresser on the right side. It cluttered, chaotic, with tubes of cosmetics in all colors fighting for space on the dressing table with aftershave, powder and hair ties. Inkar would have a fit if it had been their bedroom. Yuri however did not seemed to mind. He was in the middle of the chaos, like an eye of the storm, laying on the queen size bed, curled up on his side in the sheets, his arms wrapped around a pillow. The man was sound asleep, his hair an absolute mess and his mouth slightly ajar.

He looked completely unaware and adorably at ease. As if there wasn’t a care in the world, or at least not in his shaded bedroom world. The only disturbance indicating that there was a world outside; a single ray of morning sunshine brave enough to peep through the heavy black curtains and illuminate his skin. Otabek could not keep himself from tracing the man’s muscles up his back to his shoulders and then to his face. He was staring, his hands were tingling to reach out, to touch, even though he knew he shouldn’t. It took significant willpower to not break the rules anyway though, his face flushed red in embarrassment. He mentally cursed his lack of manners and prayed to whatever God that heard him, for his body not to react. Yuri would drag him through hell if it would, with his teasing smiles, and comments. 

He realized that he was stalling, that he would have no problem standing in the doorway with a cat in his hands, looking at Yuri’s almost naked body for hours. He didn’t know what that made of him, but he was very glad when Natasha started to protest his grip on her and forced him to tap the door with his foot and call out Yuri’s name with a lump of most likely unnecessary nerves in his throat. 

Yuri veered up like a rocket straight away, throwing off the comforter in a flurry of motion. There was no way back, his body was now completely unveiled, the only piece of fabric on him black boxer shorts. Otabek flushed an even deeper red, his mind struggling with decisions. He did not know where to look. One part wanted to look away, the other, louder, part, wanted to study, to absorb every single piece of skin he could see. He found middle ground in looking at Yuri’s sleepy face. A face pulled in a confused frown, oblivious to his struggle or how hard he tried not to stare. No, the man had eyes only for his pet, reaching out for her while uttering a delighted scream as all sleep disappeared from his face. Not a single sign of shame or discomfort on his face, it was as if he had not seen Otabek at all. 

He walked over as Yuri made grabby hands at him, placing Natasha in Yuri’s lap and himself on the edge of the matrass. There was cooing, there were kisses on Natasha’s head and there were obvious glances of Yuri who shamelessly checked out his naked chest. A level of confidence in his gaze and manner that Otabek did not seemed to possess. Otabek could swear he felt the air sizzle, and feel heat crawl up his spine and down to his groin when their eyes met. He had to bite his tongue hard to keep himself from groaning in defeat. Whatever it was, whether it was the time of day, the sluggishness of a mind still not completely awake or just the sight of Yuri’s skin, it was wearing down on his discipline. And it just wasn’t the right timing. It was just so tempting to reach out and touch, to find out what Yuri would do if he stroked his hand up the skin of his chest, what sounds Yuri would make if he would kiss… He ended that thought abruptly, wrenching his eyes away and busing himself with petting Natasha, who was purring loudly in Yuri’s lap. All the while repeating the most boring, non-sexual tasks he could. A to do list for the bookshop, a list of books he had to order, what customers were going to come in to collect books they had ordered online. Everything but the thoughts that were lurking in the back of his mind until he could feel the heat simmer down. Only then did he speak, his words making little sense to himself, but he felt like he just had to talk. 

"She vomited all over the place but she seems to be fine. She woke me up by exploring and decided that I was a good resting spot."

"And you dared to move?" 

Their eyes met again, this time Yuri was glaring at him, the charged atmosphere having melted away. It made Otabek wonder if it had ever even been there or if he was the only one that had felt it. He decided against asking what the truth was. Instead he nodded to answer the question, earning him a very dramatic sigh, as if Otabek had done the stupidest thing in the world, something unforgiveable. 

“Never move when you have been blessed by a cat’s attention, it is the law. Amateur.”

Otabek just shook his head and smiled when Yuri’s attention returned to his cat. As he pressed kisses on her head and talked baby talk to her in Russian, calling her the cutest and promising her all the treats. The cat didn’t protest the fussing, it seemed as if she was used to it. It was obvious that she was spoiled, and it was obvious that Yuri loved it. As much as Otabek loved watching them together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, another chapter! This chapter is sort of based of an event in my real life, I was asked to catsit the neighbors cats and one of them vomited all over the floor. It was disgusting but petting them made cleaning it all up very worth it. I don't know why I decided to use it in here, but I needed an excuse for them to hang out, I guess. Editing is going slow lately because every so often I just drown in insecurity and question every word and then I just have to take a break for a while, but I will finish this for sure, I have too much time invested already, haha. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the read and until next time!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek laughed when one of the pillows on the bed flew towards his head. It hit him, but had little effect other than ruffling his bed hair a bit more. Still Yuri tried to keep up the annoyed glare. He tried to shame him, but couldn’t. In the end they were just laughing. Yuri flat out on the bed and Otabek on the edge. 
> 
> “Idiot,” Yuri finally managed to mumble, his body still shaking. “You’re out of luck. I have no groceries because of the monster here. I think there are like two eggs. You, as GUEST, can have them. I will grab a sandwich on the road.”
> 
> “Or we can have one egg each?” 
> 
> Otabek hunched over in advance for the slam with a pillow he knew would come. And he was right. It hit him on the shoulder and chest, but barely hurt. 
> 
> The man pointed his finger at him, eyes squinted, trying to be serious even when his lips twitched and his chest still seemed to heave in laughter. Otabek just grinned back feeling smug. 
> 
> “No, No, No. You are going to be selfish. I swear you will! You have done more than enough. Go take a shower, so I can change and then go sit on the couch. Just sit, pet my cat, watch television, I DON’T CARE. But stay out of the damned Kitchen!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter includes a scene with questionable consent, this starts about halfway in the chapter.

Eventually the man looked at him again, seemingly remembering that Otabek was in the room in the first place. A smile playing with his lips, and a faint embarrassed blush on his face that made Otabek smile. 

"I am glad that she is okay. Hopefully whatever she ate is out now." 

“I am sure it is, and once she is back on her old food everything will be back to normal. That’s what the vet said right? Well we’ll have to trust her as neither of us has any experience in veterinary practice.” 

Yuri smiled, pressing another kiss on his cats head. He looked so unbelievably relieved that, if Otabek had not seen it for himself, he might not have believed that Yuri had a tender side. It seemed as if he was once again ready to take on the world with his cat by his side. 

“Talking about food. Any breakfast wishes?”

The man froze, his eyes ripping away from his baby to drill themselves into Otabek’s face, his eyebrows sky-high in disbelieve. Otabek felt as if he was going to be scolded… Or murdered, it was a very fine line between the two. What happened in the end was Yuri hurling himself forward, spooking his cat a little, and pinching Otabek on the arm, hard. He swore under his breath, pulling his arm back as if stung. 

“What was that for?! Damnit Yuri that hurts.” 

Yuri didn’t care, he was too busy rolling his eyes as Otabek rubbed the sore spot over and over, trying to get rid of the faint mark that Yuri had made. 

“You’re a guest, act like one for fuck sake!”

He probably shouldn’t have grinned the way he had when Yuri was yelling at him, but he did. 

“So I shouldn’t have cleaned up all the vomit on the floor?” He mumbled carefully, looking away at a very interesting spot on the ceiling. Noting that the room actually had ornate ceiling decoration, swirls and arches he had only seen in books on European houses. 

He was pulled out of his observation almost as soon as he had made it, when Yuri slapped him again. His arm now had two red spots. 

“You did not. Tell me you didn’t.” Yuri groaned, pinching his nose and once again hooking his eyes into Otabek’s. They held a glare that must have caused grown men to shit their pants. Otabek couldn’t blame them, if he had not seen Yuri smooching his cat minutes earlier he would have felt the same. Now however he just started to whistle and look around him pretending not to be suspicious. 

“Well… Now I think of it… There might be some stuff left in a corner or behind the big plant… I haven’t checked everywhere… Perhaps I should check…”

He had expected another slap, perhaps in the face this time. Instead Yuri broke of his monologue by groaning as if he had been shot and dropping himself very theatrically back into the sheets. The fluffy white sheets framed his body beautifully. The sigh he let escape made it sound as if he had been asked to take out the trash by his mom. It was a sigh of annoyance but acceptance. Otabek laughed when one of the pillows on the bed flew towards his head. It hit him, but had little effect other than ruffling his bed hair a bit more. Still Yuri tried to keep up the annoyed glare. He tried to shame him, but couldn’t. In the end they were just laughing. Yuri flat out on the bed and Otabek on the edge. 

“Idiot,” Yuri finally managed to mumble, his body still shaking. “You’re out of luck. I have no groceries because of the monster here. I think there are like two eggs. You, as GUEST, can have them. I will grab a sandwich on the road.”

“Or we can have one egg each?” 

Otabek hunched over in advance for the slam with a pillow he knew would come. And he was right. It hit him on the shoulder and chest, but barely hurt. 

The man pointed his finger at him, eyes squinted, trying to be serious even when his lips twitched and his chest still seemed to heave in laughter. Otabek just grinned back feeling smug. 

“No, No, No. You are going to be selfish. I swear you will! You have done more than enough. Go take a shower, so I can change and then go sit on the couch. Just sit, pet my cat, watch television, I DON’T CARE. But stay out of the damned Kitchen!”

Otabek fought his laughter and got up, even as he really didn’t want to. He wanted to stick around, fool around some more, but neither of them had the time. So walked to the door and saluted Yuri as he looked over his shoulder, snorting when he saw Yuri squeeze a pillow with narrowed eyes. He lifted his hand immediately and backed off, the smile not leaving his lips even as he closed the door behind him. He could take the offered shower in that amazing bathroom, but decided against it. There was just too much of a risk of his mind leading him astray again. A boner was the last thing he could use. So he settled down and played the good guest. He watched some news, petted Natasha, who had followed him to the sofa, and relaxed until Yuri stepped out of the room. 

The man still was squinting like an angry grandma, even when Otabek had been the best guest in the world, when he got out of the bedroom. He had obviously done his morning routine as his hair was braided against his skull and his skin was shiny with lotion. He was wearing an open flannel shirt over a tight tee and tight jeans with rips and tears on the knees, and looked as if he was ready to fight. 

The man kept his eyes on his guest all the way from his room to the kitchen. Then glare at him some more over the fridge door as he took out the two eggs. Their locked gazes were only broken when he started to fry them while whistling, as if Otabek suddenly had evaporated. But he hadn’t. Otabek was still very much on the couch and entertained himself by just looking. His gaze seemed to be getting sucked to Yuri’s ass. He knew he should fight it, but he couldn’t. His ass just looked too good in his jeans not to, to the point that he felt a terrible craving to touch.

The craving disappeared abruptly when Yuri glanced over his shoulder with a broad grin, making him panic, flush and look away. But the voices on the television had lost their appeal. And Yuri seemed to know as Otabek could hear him chuckle. Yet he kept pretending that he had never stared, looking at the walls as a deer in the headlights until Yuri dropped himself next to him and handed him his eggs, before tucking himself in the corner of the sofa cradling a bowl of cereal as if nothing had happened. So Otabek did the same. 

They discussed their day while they ate, and their plans for the next week. Yuri still wanted to go to the zoo, but vetoed when Otabek said they could. He then declared loudly that it was Otabek’s turn to pick, squinting at him and slapping Otabek softly with a spoon when he tried to protest. And again when he protested to being slapped with a spoon. 

He gave in quickly and promised to think of something while rubbing his arm to Yuri’s triumphant grin. Yet when they started to discuss options, they found that they couldn’t decide. And as time didn’t stop for them and he ended up having to hurry to make work on time, he in the end called a raincheck and rushed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Yuri was still sipping his cup of coffee when he reemerged. The man smiled then motioned to his hair, making Otabek realize that it probably looked a mess. When he raised a hand to comb through it however, Yuri glared at him. 

“It looks nice, Leave it.”

Otabek did not know how to respond, nor did he had the time to think about it too much. So instead he moved over, scratched Natasha behind the ears, wrenched down the urge to kiss Yuri on the temple as he would Inkar and practically ran out of the door after a stuttered goodbye with an embarrassed red flush on his cheekbones. His mind however, stayed behind. As he walked the streets to the nearest bus stop he couldn’t help but thing about how Yuri would finish his morning routine, kiss Natasha and leave for the studio. He wanted to go back. Just to sit, chat and have another glass of water as Yuri drank his coffee. No tea would enter Yuri’s household, Otabek had realized when looking for cleaning supplies. 

Instead he got on the bus, laughing out loud when he recognized the crumpled ten dollar note in his pocket when buying a ticket. He had never noticed Yuri stuffing it in his pocket. The man had seriously outsmarted him, and he was delighted. When he took his seat he laughed a bit more, loud enough for a few people to look over their shoulder to check if he hadn’t gone mad, but Otabek couldn’t be bothered. 

“Never underestimate Yuri” he mumbled to himself, as he stuffed the note back in his pocket. His grin stuck the entire drive to Boston’s city center, especially when he got the reply to a text he had sent to the little Houdini. 

_A magician never spills his secret._

It didn’t matter. He knew how Yuri had done it. He had grabbed Otabek’s jeans when he had been asleep and tucked the note in, and because he had been too sluggish and distracted all morning, he had never noticed. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that they were messing around, in a way he could have never done with Inkar, and it made him feel light enough to believe that he could handle whatever the day would throw at him, and he needed it. 

The shop-owner who everyone called Miss Rosie, a lady in her late 60’s whose gray hair was always pulled in a strict teacher hairstyle and who wore glasses in the same look, looked elated when he entered. He had tried to convince her to change her style because she was as strict and scary as the average golden retriever, but she always just gave him a look. She liked to pretend she was someone to respect, and she was. Like you did your sweet grandma. 

And she confirmed his opinion once again as she waved her arms helplessly when he entered, pointing at stacks of boxes and making a very hopeless noise. Otabek couldn’t help but snort. She had misread to order forms again it seemed. She did it once in a while and wreaked havoc on the store, forcing them all to work harder. He didn’t mind much, usually because it would keep his mind of things, and that morning he was so happy that he did not mind it either. Also: she would feed him cookies, which he refused on principle at least twice before succumbing. One glance at the counter, which had a plate with cookies made him believe that day would not be any different. 

It was hard work, especially as Miss Rosie depended on him to carry the heavy boxes back and forth, but he didn’t complain. Everything just good, to the point that she, and a couple of regulars started to ask questions. Had he won money? Were he and Inkar pregnant? Had he killed someone and was he just pretending? He denied every suggestion, but couldn’t give a plausible excuse either. In the end he just shrugged and moved on, enjoying every moment keeping the feeling in a tight clasp as he went home after closing. 

But no matter how tight he held it, it still slipped through his fingers the moment he stood in the doorway of his house. Usually the smells of spices would soothe him, but now they felt like the enemy that hit him in the face, and kicked out the last memory of roses and lavender that he had tried to keep a grip on. His mood plummeted. His entire body seemed to lock back up, in fear of the lioness in the lion’s den. It took him effort not to just walk back out of the door. Instead he called to Inkar that he was home and closed it behind him. 

She already knew. Inkar had moved into the living room the moment she had heard the door. A sweet smile on her face. 

“Welcome home.”

Her eyes stood in stark relief to the rest of her body. They were cold, filled with hidden anger. It put him on edge straight away. Every move seemed precarious, as if it could take them over the edge. But she didn’t, instead she crossed the last distance and kissed his cheek, then grabbed his hand and pulled him to the dinner table. It was set as if they had something to celebrate, as if it was the end of Ramadan or something. It was stacked with elaborate dishes that he had been supposed to eat the day before. It could have fed an army or orphanage, but it was just for him. 

It made him uncomfortable, knowing that more than half of the table would go into the trash. Especially as she looked so proud as she waited for him to have first pick. It was the drink however that turned his discomfort into frustration as she poured it. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that she would encourage him to have beer. To have alcohol. When she always told him not to. Always, from the day they had met in high-school.  
He kept repeating that it meant nothing, that she was just trying to be nice, that it was just one beer for a special occasion, even if he did not know which. But he couldn’t get over the feeling of phantom bugs crawling over his skin. 

Someone else would have said something. Someone else would have turned down the drink, or would have eaten the food with relish, accepting the gesture. Otabek didn’t however, he drank the beer to humor her, and complemented her cooking even when it tasted bland to him. He would do everything to clear the air, but found that he couldn’t. Especially not when she started to talk about a friend of hers who found out she was expecting. 

His wife was making an effort to drop not so subtle hints. He could see it in her smile, the touches of her hand to his as she passed a dish, and in the emphasis on “son” throughout her story. She kept repeating how happy her friend was and how fulfilling her husband felt. It was so sickly sweet he swore he could feel his teeth rot. 

It agitated him, even more then her make believe had done all week. Her fairytale story was just her probing his defenses, poking holes to see if she could spring a leak. No matter how many times he would say no, she would try for yes. 

Yet once again he swallowed his annoyance and kept up the façade while calmly sipped his beer that seemed to taste more bitter than usual. All because he knew that getting angry would not help him. He could shout at her to stop doing whatever her witch of a mother had told her to do. Ask her where she had dropped her spine and morals so he could return them, or yell that he never had had the intention of marrying a dog or a servant. Perhaps slam the bottle of beer on the table and ask her if she had lost more morals that he should know of. The words were there, burning in his throat. He had to drown them in beer more than once, but they never left, the venom kept pressing on his mind causing a faint headache. 

Still he bit his tongue.

The greater goal was worth it. If he would say something they would fight, shout, and go to bed angry, there would be another week of tension. The thought alone made the anger drain away, common sense taking over the itch for a fight. A sigh escaped him, catching Inkar’s attention. She opened her mouth to ask but he was already shaking his head. 

“Nothing wrong, just tired.” 

He returned his attention to his plate, but while he should have relished every bite, because Inkar knew how to cook and the sheer nostalgia. He just couldn’t. His mind kept slipping away. He wondered what Yuri was doing, what he was eating, what series he would be watching with Natasha purring in his lap. He would have given up a fortune just to have joined him there. Instead he finished his meal, thanking his wife for her cooking and let his mind slip away. Inkar kept talking, and he could hear himself respond with questions and encouragements, but he mind kept returning to Yuri hugging his cat with a broad smile. 

It wasn’t until she straddled him when they were watching television that the thoughts dissolved completely. She kissed him while he was still processing what was going on. The surprise made him kiss her back. They kissed as if he was on auto pilot however, his body frozen in place. His hands lingered on her hips, while hers roamed his body, shaping his muscles and massaging his groin through his clothes. 

Nothing happened. 

There was no response. Not until she blew her hot breath to the spot beside his ear that always turned him on. Only then did he feel something stir. She was oblivious to his apathy however and kept going, smiling, kissing and biting his jaw in play until she suddenly jumped up and pulled him to his feet. He followed her into the bedroom, kissing her back when she kissed him again and pulling of his shirt when she gave it a little tug before she jumped on their bed to give herself a good view. 

Inkar was very much into him, licking her lips and taking off her own clothes as he stood there as a numb as a robot. It took him a while of thinking but in the end his body reacted to her as she wanted to. 

As it had always had.

Against all odds. And just as every other time that miracle happened, he took a second to thank the devil. It must have had quite the claim on his soul by then, as he needed his assistance every time his wife dragged him into the bedroom. His desire for Inkar had dampened over the years to the point that she had actually dragged him to the hospital to get his functions checked out. It was embarrassing beyond imagination, and he had caused quite a scene when they got home with the results. They had found nothing wrong with him, but still Inkar did not understand. She did not see that it was lack of attention that made him avoid sex with her more and more often. 

Nor did she get it that evening. Instead she beckoned him with a finger, as she curled her back and arranged her hair on the sheets. To some she might have looked like an ancient bronze skinned goddess, as she had looked to him in the first years. Now she seemed like his owner, as his imaginary tail slid between his legs before he moved over, meekly as a dog. There was no more need for encouragement, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, her nails scraping his skin gently, but he couldn’t help but shiver. 

As if he found himself in the talons of an eagle. 

He did not want to anger her. 

So he kissed her back, without passion, without warmth. Rushed and clumsy, touching her as she wanted to be touched, watching become fidgety. Her back bent, desire in her eyes, and hands clawing the sheets. 

It was rushed, he wanted it over with. Yet still he waited to hear what she wanted, but she did nothing. She wanted him to take the lead while he wanted her to have it. She was waiting for him, her eyes half lidded and her hands on his skin. 

For a second he considered leaving her hanging. It seemed so easy. He could just jump up, take of his jeans and put on some sweats. He could almost imagine her face as he would ignore her, snuggle under the sheets and switch of the lights. 

She would rip his face off after she had overcome his shock. 

It was a stupid thought. Inkar would kill him, and the fight he wanted to desperately avoid would turn into a full out war. And he knew he would lose. She had people supporting him, while he was very alone. He even doubted that Yuri….

Otabek shut off that thought and bend down to kiss his wife. He did not want to think of him, not at that moment, he was very scared that if he mixed the two, his friendship with Yuri would somehow change for the worst. Luckily he didn’t have to. As Inkar started to undo his belt, pulling him back to his bedroom. He let her be, reaching over her for the lower drawer of the nightstand for a condom instead. He had to just pull through. 

Inkar’s hand shot up to his, snatching the wrapper from his hand. Or attempting to, as he did not let go. 

He watched as her face went through a range of expressions: surprise, hurt, before melting back into sticky sweetness.

“We don’t need this now, do we, my love?” she asked him, her voice reduced to an anxious whisper an emphasis on the last words. 

“We do.” He replied.

A flash of hurt returned to her face as she fell back to the bed, before desperation took over. She seemed to plea with him with her big deer eyes. When he didn’t respond she started to mutter prayers under her breath. But he was unmoved, feeling almost cold. It almost seemed as if she was making _him_ the boogieman. As if _he_ was about to _rape_ her. It left a vile taste in his mouth. 

But he returned to hang over her anyway, after he had slid on the condom and threw away the empty wrapper. She ran the show, she would have to say stop. He decided to use the cold anger he felt into his veins to his advantage however. Perhaps it would make her reconsider. Neither of them wanted this. She didn’t want the condom, he didn’t want sex. Stopping now would make them both happy wouldn’t it? 

But even if it did, she didn’t back down when he asked her if she really wanted it. He hoped she would have, that he would escape, but she hesitated only for a second before she wrapped her arms back around his neck and pulled him to her. 

He blacked out. 

Otabek could feel her lips on his jaw, could feel her skin under his fingers as he pleasured her, but his body was moving as if on autopilot until they were both on their back in a sheen of sweat. The faint hum of pleasure remaining in his body made him feel sick. He just wanted to close his eyes and go to sleep. Instead he looked at his wife, who was still panting, her eyes bright and smiling big. 

Inkar reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling close. She started to whisper to him how much she loved him, pressing kisses to his skin. Otabek couldn’t respond. He felt too tense, his fingers so clenched that he left light prints on her skin. He felt strangely sensitive, her body to warm against his. Everything felt too cramped. He wanted to get up and leave the room, but he stayed. Her body kept him down like an anchor as she started to talk, wanted him to talk. It was too much. He felt emotionally rubbed raw. Already he could hear the voice in the back of his mind ask him questions. Asking him why he hadn’t stopped her. What people would think if they knew? What Yuri would think? 

He didn’t want to hear them. He didn’t want to think. He just wanted silence. 

So for once, just once, he dared to take the easy way out and stopped fighting the exhaustion he felt. He closed his eyes and waited. Waited for Inkar to stop, and for sleep to come. The former happened in moments. She pressed a kiss to his chest and made herself comfortable, and eventually falling asleep.

As he felt his own mind wavering he couldn’t help but feel like he had dodged another bullet. Another night done and over with. How many more would he be able to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while but here it is. I am going to try to up the posting speed a little, as I near my one year anniversary of working on this thing. Writing stories and doing a master really isn't the best of combinations. I probably wont finish posting it before that as I started this story somewhere last July or early August or something, but we're on page 46 of 132, so yeah we are coming along nicely. Next chapter will be a bit cuter I promise, I try to balance the toxic stuff with cuteness.   
> ~hope you enjoyed!


	10. Chapter 10

As much as he had hoped that sleeping with her would finally make Inkar snap out of her make believe and bring everything back to normal, it didn’t. The morning after she was back to her pleasing servant self. Smiling sweetly, baking pancakes, and letting him have the television while he knew she had things she wanted to watch. If he would have let her she would have let him decide her entire Sunday. Instead he swallowed some pancakes and a cup of tea, grabbed his helmet and jacket and fled on his motorcycle for a long ride that took half a day. The wind in his hair and his head empty, until he couldn’t stretch his ride any longer and returned with reluctance to his lonely wife. 

But she wasn’t. When he returned there were people over. Inkar’s friends from the mosque, a husband and wife that were regular visitors. And just as always Otabek could just feel a passive judging radiating of them when he entered. What they were judging Otabek could never tell, but he knew it was always about him, as they looked him up and down his sweaty grimy self with a coolness in their gaze that made him stand straighter in defiance even though his body felt weary. 

For a second he looked back at the door again, but he knew that it was too late to flee again. 

So instead he just plastered on a smile and excused himself, before slipping into the bathroom to take a shower. He made sure to take all the time he could, wondering in the meantime if Inkar had called them to punish him, then told himself he was being paranoid. They were just friends concerned about their wellbeing. Sure they could be annoying and say things they shouldn’t, but he just had to get out and endure. Which he did, even if his feet felt like lead. 

This time when he came out the door, he made sure to greet their guest as warm as his mother had taught him, and joined them on the sofa. He figured that he should welcome the distractions and the effect they could have, if not for himself then for Inkar. So he made an effort to hook into their conversation, and all went well. If their guests had any problem with him they did not show. 

Until the tables turned on him. 

The gods for some cruel reason decided to punish him, as Aisha, Inkar’s friend, received a text and then, while smiling brightly made some remarks about her angels of children. If that wasn’t bad enough she then asked them very casually if they were planning on getting children anytime soon as Inkar was pushing thirty. 

Otabek felt as if he fell down a hole, before he felt an incredible, despair induced rage fill his blood. He got the incredible urge to shout at the woman, but bit his tongue. It did not stop him from mentally cursing her for bringing up the subject he had tried to avoid so hard though as he saw Inkar’s face drop in the corner of his eye. Yet while he had expected her to spill all her frustrations and annoyances with him to her friends, she didn’t. Instead she worked hard to keep her façade of the perfect housewife and hostess up. She smiled and chatted while he knew she was unhappy and frustrated. He could just see it in the coldness of her eyes, it spoke of the poison within. Yet whatever Aisha had unleashed, it stayed perfectly contained in Inkar’s body. 

His wife had received the blow and absorbed it, carrying it around long after they had fed, entertained and said goodbye to their guests and went to sleep. She hugged it to her like a child, carrying it around for days. Those days were still filled with her perfect housewife routine, but Otabek could see that there were cracks underneath. Lines upon lines kept stacking up until everything collapsed on Tuesday evening when he was watching television on the sofa. 

His wife had once again tried to seduce him to the sheets, with kissing, touching and stripping herself. She had giggled and smiled, kissed and whispered like a pro seductress. Promised him every sexual favor he would ever dream of.

But he said no. 

The smart part of him had hissed at him to do what she said like the week before, to just lay down and let her do what she wanted. It would be over with soon, it would make her happy, she would be off his back. But the memories of his disgust, and the hopelessness he had felt, fueled the little rebellious flame he guarded in his heart. The little bit of the pride he had left. She had surprised it last time, but this time it flickered strong. 

It was the wrong decision. The moment the word had come out of his mouth he saw the change in Inkar. The sweet smile evaporated and got replaced by fire as she stood there in the middle of the living room, her back straight, wearing nothing but lingerie and flame spitting anger. To most it would have probably been laughable, but Otabek instantly regretted himself, because he could feel that she was more angry than usual. He had thought that he could handle the lioness, but he realized that he had expected a cub. The angry flood of words that had been saved up and fermenting for days, perhaps even weeks, just poured out of her, as she stomped towards him with incredible speed. For a second he feared she would hit him, but instead she pushed a long fingernail into his shirt and glared in his eyes, her jaws clenched. He flinched mentally, but his body stood tall, as the nail seemed to burn through his shirt and scorch his skin. For a second or two they just stood there, then the blizzard truly hit. 

She started screaming, screaming that he was the worst, a useless man, that he had no right to torture her. That she should have had it all, she was twenty-eight, with a fine husband, a great career, good salary, a wonderful home, but no family life. He was embarrassing her, he could have just as well stripped her naked, or whored her out. Everyone in the mosque was talking about her, about her not having children, because they knew how much she wanted them, ever since she was little. They asked her every week if something had changed, if she had been able to get pregnant. If she had changed her mind, if she was becoming a cold businesswoman. If she was sick, if her husband was mistreating her, if he was incompetent. They gave her advice in the form of romancing tactics, referred to aphrodisiacs, mumbled that she didn’t do enough and let him slack. It was constantly her fault, and she was sick of it. 

Her body was trembling as she shouted, she stood big and tall to his sitting form. She was impressive, a tempest of anger based in hurt, but when he reached for her to calm her down and comfort her, as he thought she wanted, she snapped again, stepping back with her hands held high, the fire rekindled in her eyes. 

This time she asked him in a frightening cold and calm voice what she had to do to please him. What she had to do for him to accept her as his wife. For them to have what they had years ago. For them to have a true family. For him to accept her love. She already cooked, cleaned and financially supported them, already did all the social activities he did not feel like going to. What could he possibly want more? For her to kiss his feet? The ground he walked on? To place him above Allah so she would worship him? She went silent, her eyes drilled in his. Waiting. Just waiting. 

Otabek knew he had to answer her, especially as she finally burst out in tears. But he couldn’t. It hurt him that his inability to love him as she deserved caused her so much pain, even if a small voice in the back of his mind wondered if every word that was spoken was true. In his point of view, it was her who didn’t let him do any of the work at home, and he only skipped social things when he was too exhausted. But the truth didn’t matter here, it only mattered what she believed. And what she believed was that he was the cause of all her wrongs, and Otabek could see it too. 

He got up from the couch and wrapped her in his arms. This time she let him, snuggling into his chest as she had always done.

Deep down he wanted to tell her the truth. That he did not know what had changed, that something was wrong that prevented their marriage from working like it should. Like it had worked in their first years. That it was all his fault as she expected, because he was somehow incapable of loving her like he should as her husband. That he had tried to fix it, but he couldn’t. 

And he couldn’t say it either. 

The words were stuck in his mouth as a nagging voice in the back of his mind kept pushing that he did know what it was that prevented it from working. That he had always known. That he had known all along but that he had willingly ignored it. That he had made her suffer from the beginning for his sake instead of hers, because he feared the truth. 

He pushed the voice away as he always did. He didn’t know what the truth was anymore. He kept telling himself that he loved his wife, and he guessed he did, because he hated to see the strong, brave woman crying ugly tears in his arms. 

So he focused on fixing that first, on drying those bitter tears from her cheeks. He cradled her face in his palms and made her face him, then tenderly kissed her forehead and wiped the tears from her skin. She looked like an echo of herself, her big deer eyes red and puffy, her jaw and hands clenched in fear or tension. She looked like a hurt animal, and it struck deep. His mind was spinning. He could not come clean that he was struggling to love her, not at that moment, not when she was already this hurt and stressed, and not when he wasn’t sure that he couldn’t fix it eventually, that they had just hit a bump that they, he, had to overcome, but a lie didn’t seem right either. 

He settled for a half-truth, a half-truth that he felt would make everything settle back for at least a while, long enough for him to find out what their next move should be. He told her that he was scared or having a family, that he did not know if he could handle the daunting responsibility of having children. It was the truth even if the anxiety was based in the doubts of him being able to keep a family with her together, instead of the idea of failing to raise his children properly. He told her to have a bit more patience as he figured it out. 

Inkar’s surprised laughter broke all tension in her body and his. It was as if a tight spring was released. Her mood had changed in seconds as she rubbed the remainder of the tears from his cheeks. A kiss was pressed on his lips, a smile on hers. She called him silly, laughing all the while, then assured him that there would be nothing to fear. He would do great as a father she assured him. He was a great uncle, a great brother, so why wouldn’t he be a great father? It would be an adventure for the both of them, she said, but one she was excited to start. They would be fine. He hummed in agreement, even if he at that moment could not really agree, promising her that he would think about it. And in the meanwhile he told himself that he had to sort himself out. That he had to give his wife what she deserved. That he had to somehow find the feeling and spark they once had. Because he had promised her eternity, and had hurt her so much in the first years of it already. 

Besides if he wouldn’t, he would be in more trouble than ever. He had a dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach as he held his wife to his body. Because if he was unable to find the love he had somehow lost, he would get stuck, it was unavoidable. He was already promising to thinking about pregnancy, he would not be able to push it in front of him forever. Time would eventually run out and the trap would snap shut. The question was: as he watched it fall would he be okay with it, or would he remain quiet with his disagreement forever? Would he be able to physically do that even? 

He couldn’t answer, and was lucky that he didn’t have to at that moment. It seemed as if their life returned to normal again. The sickening make-believe disappeared, the remaining beer was thrown out and she did not offer to help him for the rest of the evening. 

Still sleep kept avoiding him that night. Every time he closed his eyes and tried to drift away, his mind would attack him with thoughts. Inkar would be there, with a little girl on her hip and a boy at her skirt. She would be radiantly smiling and beckoning him towards him, but his stomach would churn and his eyes would snap open. He simply could not imagine them all being together like that. Inkar with children? Yes. Himself with children? Yes. Them with their children? No. He had told himself that he would do the best he could to have their marriage return to what it once was, and he knew that getting pregnant was probably the easiest way to achieve it, but the idea alone was enough to fill him with fear and resent. It made him want to run. Just grab his motorcycle and disappear into the sunset as far as he could. 

It most likely made him a coward but he wrapped himself in that daydream. He just let his mind relax and enjoyed those thoughts as they slowly warped and changed as the minutes passed away and slumber slowly came. He was no longer alone on those trips. Yuri was there with him, his pale hands on Otabek’s shoulders, and his face tilted towards the sun. They drove until they no longer could, all the while shouting and singing. They were drinking beer in roadside diners, they were walking through waist high flower fields shouting each other’s names in a game. They were having marshmallows around a campfire and telling each other horror stories, they were laying in the park in the grass, with Natasha, who popped out of thin air. Sometimes Yuri would take off his shirt, allowing him to marvel, daring him to even, with those incredible eyes. And Otabek did, without shame. Sometimes he would even dare reaching out and touch, but the scene would change the moment he did. They lived a hundred days in a few hours that night, but whatever they did, no matter where they were one thing remained the same. 

They were always laughing. 

The dreams and daydreams that sprung from that first night followed him in the days after, to work, to the shower, in the bus, giving him some light in his anxiety, to the point that he could actually think. Or more accurately: ignore what his brain bombarded him with. Once again he could pretend that the sword of Damocles that hung above his neck was still far away instead of scraping his skin. It felt uncomfortable, but survivable. He just had to keep telling himself that nothing had happened yet, that there was still time for getting used and acceptance. He just had to take things one step at a time. 

While nothing terrible happened at home, he was still happy to have an excuse to get out on Friday. He had planned to take Yuri to the zoo as he wanted, but when he woke that morning alone in a cold bed after another night of mental road trips with Yuri, he realized that he didn’t have the energy to go. He wanted, needed even, peace and quiet, something that would take them away from the city and the buzz, as the buzz in his head was more than enough for him. 

It took him a while to get going. He laid in his bed for a long time after the alarm had been snoozed with his eyes open. Inkar had left early in the morning, he had heard her get up and felt her kiss to his temple, but had not responded. He was too tired, and still too much in the grasp of his dream to accept the reality. 

He closed his eyes again, breathing in the scent of Inkar in the sheets and just taking time to realize where and when he was and to prepare for another day. The early morning sun peeked through the shutters to warm his skin, and the gentle breeze carried the smell of fumes through the open window. 

A beautiful day. Yuri would love it. 

It was all the thoughts he needed to get up. Yuri would scold him if he was late, and whatever Otabek feared, Yuri was probably worse when angered. He smiled, actually smiled, at that thought and got up to take a shower. His mood lightened further under the water, as he forced himself to remember the texts Yuri had sent him throughout the weeks. Most of them had been cat-vids without text, just short clips of Natasha getting stuck or doing something foolish to show him her recovery. 

The others had been questions. 

What were they going to do? What time he needed to be where? More pressuring questions to know where they were going. Otabek had answered vaguely to all of them, half because he was too pre-occupied, but mostly because with every evasive answer Yuri got more worked up. He had learned quite the amount of Russian curses in the days prior. It had brought warmth and lightness to his body if only it had been for seconds before he had to hide his phone from Inkar again. 

He was thankful for all of them. 

And that day wasn’t different.

When he had dressed and settled down for breakfast he noticed the messages he had received since waking. A few of them were Inkar and work but most of them were Yuri. It were, again, questions of where they were going, what to wear, and finally a vid of Natasha sitting on what seemed to be the bathroom sink with a rubber duck on her head, that made him snort out loud. 

Yuri was inpatient. Apparently the man loved the idea of a surprise, but was also very curious. Basically he was a cat. And this time he wasn’t going to accept the non-answers Otabek had sent him. 

Otabek’s heart skipped a beat when his phone started to buzz. He knew Inkar was out, she had told him the day before, left him a note on the dinner table, and he hadn’t seen her all morning, but the idea that she could burst through the door made the warm feeling he had gotten from bickering with Yuri freeze to ice. It was as if he feared that Inkar was somehow capable of eavesdropping from miles away. 

For a minute or so he stood frozen as a deer in the headlights, staring at his phone in his hand and the piece of paper on the table. Before he shook himself and mumbled that he was being absurd. He had no reason to be this weary. Inkar wasn’t there, and even if she had been he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was just talking to a friend right? 

Still he couldn’t shake the feeling of fear as he answered, and couldn’t help his eyes flitting to the front door as said hello. 

He was very glad that Yuri bombarded him with questions from the start, most of them questions he could answer with half-hearted hums, as his eyes were stuck to the door and his mind kept playing scenarios in which Inkar burst through the door and screamed at him for calling. Until Yuri started to shout, actually shout, “attention” in his ear, then laughed loudly as Otabek accused him of giving him a heart attack. “It’s what you deserve” Yuri told him. “For talking in fucking riddles.” It sucked up all his attention and told his brain to stop being paranoid. 

Yuri grumbled and threatened but Otabek would still not tell him what he should prepare for, he only advised him to wear comfortable shoes and to dress in layers. Claiming it was punishment, but in reality it was to see what Yuri would do. All Otabek got was an exhausted huff and a growl, then he called him a meanie before saying goodbye and ending the call. Otabek was left to stare at his phone, a smile on his lips and his anxiety retreating. But even without it he still hurried to get out of the door, for an entire different reason. 

He loved Fridays. 

Yuri was already waiting for him when he rolled up at their usual meet-up. His eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, and his gaze focused on his phone, completely oblivious. It gave Otabek a possibility to observe for a second as he parked. Yuri had followed Otabek’s advice by wearing all-stars, a pair of ripped black jeans and a white tank top with open sides and a cartoon cat on the front. Light and airy for the hot day ahead, but also prepared for surprised rain showers as he had a hoodie draped over his arm. It seemed as if the rain gods were not going to catch him off guard anymore, and if they tried Yuri would probably unleash his wrath and shout them into submission while wearing a neon orange colored monstrosity with cat ears. 

Otabek snorted at the thought, happy to feel his body relax. There was however no response from the man at all, making Otabek frown in suspicion. Wondering if the man was mad at him. His stomach suddenly in anxious knots. 

“Morning?”

That did caught Yuri’s attention. The man slid his phone in his pocket and pushed off the wall. Groaning all the while until he stood next to Otabek. Mumbling something under his breath about needing another coffee, being exhausted and something that sounded like “fuck the person that said sleep was for the weak.”

Otabek snorted again, louder this time, before shaking his head. His body still slightly tense, as if it feared that Yuri's anger was fermenting like Inkar's had, even when his brain told him he was being ridiculous. Whatever it was, it couldn't stop him from joking. 

“Let me rephrase that: good morning sunshine.” 

Yuri flipped him off faster that Otabek thought was possible, but Otabek sensed only exhaustion, then Yuri sat down behind him after retrieving what Otabek had come to think of as “Yuri’s helmet” from the back. Before the man put it on however, he sighed and leaned his head against Otabek’s back, groaning like an injured animal. More specifically a camel. Otabek had to bite his tongue hard not to laugh, his mind and body relaxing as he reminded himself that this was Yuri, someone that had never tried to hurt him before. Someone who actually cared. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, as he pushed that sudden thought back into his mind and looked over his shoulder, trying desperately not to let the laughter out, even if Yuri made it almost impossible. 

“No,” The man finally groaned. “I feel like dying. There was a P.R. thing last night. Lots and lots of champagne. I may or may have not gotten myself in a drinking battle with my dance partner and a few of the other dancers. I will deny it ever happening if anyone asks, unwritten code of the company. But for your information: I totally won. But I was in bed at like 5 am or something. I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.”

“And you don’t think it was because you were slightly, only slightly, drunk?”

“No! How dare you even suggest it! I am a beautiful Russian man, my blood is vodka by default as it was with my ancestors before me. Alcohol is my friend -.”

“Okay. Okay! Sorry I asked.”

Yuri did his dying camel impression again, then rubbed his eyes with his forehead still against Otabek’s back. A back that had started to shake with laughter. 

“Sweet mother Mary have mercy on my soul.” The man mumbled in Russian, then put on his helmet after Otabek had given it a little tap and settled down, his arms loosely wrapped around Otabek’s waist. 

“We’ll take it slow today. I had planned to go to the zoo.” Otabek told him, then grinned as he could feel Yuri glaring daggers at his back. “But I came up with something I like better. It will be quiet and peaceful, I promise.” 

“I can’t wait. I think I might have dragged you by your hair back to my place if you had actually taken me to the zoo. That or I might have killed some children in cold blood. I’m not known for kindness when I have a headache.”

Otabek shook his head a smile on his lips, before giving the grumpy old man behind him a little pat on the leg. 

“You will be fine. You ready?”

A hum, after which Yuri cuddled close and they took off, leaving Boston behind on their half an hour trip to the nearest national park. Half an hour of peace and quiet and near empty roads for Otabek to enjoy the wind and sunshine on his face and the warmth of his passenger pressed against his back. A passenger that was surprisingly still and quiet the entire trip. 

It wasn’t until they parked near the entrance of the woods that he realized why. The man had been power napping, his hands clenched on Otabek’s shirt in a death grip, his face peaceful. He grinned as Yuri’s eyes opened and his mouth spread in a wide yawn, before he looked around to take in his surroundings. The green rustling leafs and grasses and the sounds of birds and other forest inhabitants. All exhaustion and irritation seemed to melt away as his face lit up in surprise and delight. 

“You up for a hike, sleeping beauty?”

The man didn’t respond. Instead he got off and stretched himself, standing on tiptoe and raising his arms above his head while moaning loudly, as the gentle breeze caught his shirt and flashed Otabek some skin. It gave Otabek the possibility to stare, as he noticed that Yuri either didn’t notice or ignored it. And he did. He found himself wishing that the shirt was off, so he could trace the muscles of the man’s back as they flexed, then scolded himself for it immediately after, dropping his gaze to the ground as he tried not to drown in the flood of punishing thoughts and accusations that suddenly appeared in his mind and made him mentally flinch. He was married, he was saving his relationship. He had to remember. 

When he looked back up Yuri was looking at him over his shoulder, an amused, slightly sleepy smile on his lips. Otabek clung to it, then forced himself to take a deep breath and relax, reminding himself that all was fine. No-one could read his thoughts but him, it was only his own conscience he had to prove that he was doing nothing wrong. He was just admiring Yuri’s body like he would a model’s or an athlete’s. It meant nothing. Yet he couldn’t shake the discomfort and was very grateful when Yuri grabbed his attention again. 

“Let’s, I can use some exercise to get the knots out of my muscles. Remind me that napping on the back of a motorcycle is not the best thing?”

“I am impressed that you pulled it off in the first place.” 

Yuri curtsied, a mocking grin on his face. 

“Ballet, sleeping on the back of motorcycles, chasing cats to keep them from eating plastic. I have a lot of skills thank you very much. Some more known then others.”

Otabek snorted but didn’t respond, instead he dismounted and threw Yuri his hoodie. The man caught it easily, tying it around his hips, then made a grand motion with his hand and told Otabek to lead the way. 

They set off. Side by side, their helmets swinging back and forth on their wrists as they stepped on the path. The forest swallowed them in minutes, forming a barrier between Otabek and his thoughts and allowing him to relax, as if the birds singing in the trees and the squirrels they could sometimes see as a shadow, had led them away to another world where everything was just lighter. Or perhaps it was just his brain that switched gears, as he felt less exposed with just Yuri beside him. There was also no chance that Inkar would pop up behind a random tree. It left him to just enjoy the smells of the damp ground, grass and trees and the monotone movement of his legs. 

Yuri enjoyed the peace and quiet just as much it seemed. His eyes were never still. They were on the ground, the trees, the birds, and the sun as it filtered through the leaves and made beautiful patterns of light and shadow on his hair and skin. Otabek could just see the last of his tension and fatigue fade away too. Yuri even tried to mimic the birds, then laughed when they all ignored him, and left them be. 

Yet no matter how nice the peace and quiet felt to both of them, it became boring rapidly. Eventually Yuri was the first to break the silence by filling Otabek in about his week. About dance classes, about Natasha, about rehearsals, and finally, about The P.R. Thing. Yet he stopped himself before he had even uttered the first word and told Otabek to talk about his week first, because the P.R. thing, he warned would be quite the story, and rant.

But Otabek didn’t want to talk about his week, he did not even want to remember it. So he made some vague remarks about a boring week, then returned the ball to Yuri. Who frowned and studied his face for a moment or two, just long enough for Otabek’s heart to skip a beat of nerve and fear. Fear that Yuri would force him to spill it. Fear that he would have to confess how bad he felt and how complicated it all was. And it wasn’t that Otabek didn’t want to, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t know where to begin, and above all couldn’t imagine what Yuri would say, but feared the worst. 

None of it happened. Yuri just shrugged after his scrutiny to Otabek’s relief, and started the tale about his night. A night that actually only became interesting after the P.R. Thing, even though he referred to it as the P.R. Thing. What the P.R. thing was, was a mystery to Otabek, but he didn’t dare interrupt Yuri’s passionate tale of alcohol, dancing and other shenanigans, featuring a lot of his colleagues and an entire club of strangers. 

“I still can’t believe that Mila!” Yuri exclaimed at what seemed to Otabek as the end of the tale, or at least a point of the evening that everyone was far gone. “She just fucking lifted me in front of the entire club then called me skinny! I am not that skinny, she just wanted to show of her muscles. Well she succeeded. What a showoff. She wants to be prima next year but this is not the way to go ugh. Everyone was staring, and that is just not how I want to be the center of attention.” 

Yuri groaned and threw his arms in the air, then glared when Otabek started to snigger. He did not know Mila, but the way Yuri described her, despite all the grumbles, made clear to him that Yuri liked her, even if he did not want to admit it. A bit like siblings. 

A rustling in the trees distracted them for a second, just long enough to have them look up. They had been walking for a while now, just slow and steady. Still his legs burned slight as they moved along the deserted path, side by side, their helmets swinging lazily from their arms. Yuri’s slightly faster than his. 

“If it was a guy lifting me I wouldn’t have cared less. But this was Mila of all people! Mila! She is a ballerina, not a bodybuilder.” Apparently not everything was out as Yuri returned to grumbling like an old man, all the while waving his hands in agitated movements. “She does it all the time in class to mess with me. I should not have encouraged her then. Now she will never stop. Ugh such a pain. I don’t know how she pulls it off. Like I said, I am not that tiny.” Otabek just walked next to him, smiling at Yuri’s slightly reddened face, until the man stopped in the middle of the path and turned to him, his hands on his hips. 

“Why don’t you say something? What do you think?” He was still agitated, a challenge in his eyes. As if he dared calling him skinny but Otabek just shook his head and kept his languid pace even as Yuri stayed behind. 

“I am not surprised she could do it.” He finally mumbled over his shoulder when he felt Yuri glare at his back, then shrugged as he did not really see the problem. “You are muscular, yes, but also very lean. _I_ could probably lift you, with no technique nor real strength.”

Yuri gave him a slow once over, his head slightly tilted, his gaze lingering on his arms, chest and legs without shame. It made Otabek feel slightly embarrassed, a bright blush on his cheeks at Yuri’s shameless scrutiny. A blush that turned a shade deeper when he heard Yuri’s appreciative hum. 

“Yeah, I think so too. Try it.”

It felt as if Yuri had dunked a bucket of ice water over his back, he froze in place for a second before he moved forward again, his movements a bit rushed. 

“What? I was kidding!”

“I wasn’t”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people, it has been a while, sorry about that, and to make things worse next chapter will most likely also take a while but! I have reasons. One of them is my mental health, which is pretty rough at the moment, I completely lost my ability to write and read (like the concentration) for a week because of therapy which was really, really scary for me, and while I do not want that to happen again, it might, which will cause delay. For now though I am back on track. I do have some issues though that will most likely delay the next chapter (chap. 11). The biggest is that I am seriously struggling with it, even worse than I have struggled with this one, because the story turned a bit more dark when I rewrote the earlier chapters than I intended it so the original doesn't fit as well anymore. The new direction feels more real, yes, but it also feels more angsty, so I have to keep that in mind while rewriting the next chapters. The next one was supposed to be very light and fun but it didn't make as much sense anymore with the emotional baggage I've given Otabek. I have rewritten it like 5 times already and it still doesn’t feel right, and I can’t seem to figure out what is wrong with it. It feels as if I am writing something completely out of line from the rest of the story and I just can’t seem to fix it. And because I feel like it is such an important chapter I feel like I have to get it right, which gives pressure, which in turn doesn’t help either. I really wanted to have it finished before I posted this because I am leaving this one on a bit of a cliffhanger (so sorry) but like I said: it feels like I have to sell my soul before it turns out right. So please have patience…. Like a lot of it…. Because, I also go on holiday for like a week next Monday (23rd), which means 0 time to edit. Sorry. I hope to get it posted before next Sunday, but I am not going to guarantee anything at the moment. 
> 
> Now that is out of the way, some other things. First and foremost: thank you all for all the comments, subscriptions and Kudo’s. It really makes me smile and encourages me to go on when I have a mental breakdown with this story. Which I have a lot of… Writing is fun and I love it, but it is also quite the roller coaster ride of doubts and insecurities sometimes. Sigh. 
> 
> Some other things I feel like I need to mention: don’t worry about me spending too much time on this instead of my master’s degree. I have paused it in May because of my mental health and won’t be starting again till the start of the new academic year, which is like the first week of September for my university. So that should give me plenty of time to finish this, and some other projects… or so I hope. Second: the last chapter (chap 9.) did involve rape. I don’t know why I called it questionable consent, most likely because it wasn’t stereotypical violent rape, but another big influence is how I see Inkar as a character, and how I want her to be as a character, which hopefully will become clearer in the rest of the story. If she doesn’t develop/fleshes out just consider that poor writing skills on my end. 
> 
> This was quite the rant, sorry about that, I hope you’ve enjoyed the chapter, thank you all for reading and hopefully until next chapter!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man led them through the woods, parallel to the path, to the lake they had been heading to before. Then hit the brakes meters from the water’s edge as sudden as he had started to run, and turned half a pirouette on his heels. Otabek had dig his feet deep into the ground to stop, but was too late. They ended up crashing slightly into each other, Otabek’s hand on Yuri’s waist to keep them standing. They did, but only just, their bodies pressing to each other, their faces only centimeters apart, their chests heaving. 
> 
> Some small voice in the back of his mind told Otabek that he should move, that they were too close. But he was frozen in place, hypnotized by Yuri’s gaze, which had locked itself into his the moment they weren’t in danger of falling anymore. Those eyes weren’t laughing. They held doubts, a flash of what Otabek could only describe as fear, and finally steely determination, all in a split second. Then Yuri moved unexpectedly, catching Otabek off guard.

Otabek spun on his heels to face Yuri as his heart dropped. He expected laughter, but when he looked Yuri in the eyes he saw that the man was dead serious, although playful. There was a grin on his face and a mischievous glint in his eyes, but his expression was dead calm, as if he had just asked Otabek to pass the salt. It had the air of a child planning something it wasn’t supposed to behind their parent’s back, instead of someone pulling a prank. The man was inviting him to fool around, gave him an opportunity to relax, but Otabek didn’t know if lifting Yuri was the kind of shenanigans he wanted to get involved in. He told himself it was because it sounded dangerous, but he couldn’t deny he also feared what he would feel if they would get that close, because he knew how badly he sometimes wanted to. He didn’t know what kind of self-control would remain. But when he tried to walk away, Yuri just moved up to him and grabbed his wrist tight. 

Otabek froze instantly, his arm tingling where Yuri’s skin touched his. It brought chaos to his mind. Otabek did not know what to do, so he did nothing. He didn’t move, nor protest when Yuri guided the hand to his waist, slipping Otabek’s fingers through the split in his tank top to rest on his soft pale skin. 

His breath hitched in his throat. His stomach knotted with nerves and his face flushed bright as his mind truly started to register what he was doing and what he was touching. How close he suddenly was to Yuri. His mind dove into buzzing chaos of small screaming voices but two thoughts were crystal clear above them all. One: he probably looked like an idiot. And two: he did not want to let go no matter what, even though every sane thought screamed at him to stop where this was going. 

In the end he just stood there. Frozen like a deer in the headlights. His heart thumping in his chest and his throat dry, with no clue what to do next. He waited for Yuri to laugh at him, call him an idiot and tell him he was pranked after all, but the man seemed oblivious to everything. He had looked down seconds after he had placed Otabek’s hands on his skin to readjust his hoodie around his hips, then twisted his body to throw their helmets on the path with an un-ceremonial bounce. Only then did Yuri return his attention to him with no intention of slowing down. 

“What is the worst thing that can happen?” Yuri told him, a smirk on his face. “You can’t hold me, we stumble and fall? The ground is not that hard, bruises heal in a couple of weeks, I don’t really see a negative. Besides it isn’t rocket science, it’s a first year’s thing. I jump from one leg to the other and you support me so I stay in the air a few seconds longer than normal and make sure I do not jump too far. Easy.”

But Otabek wasn’t convinced, not by his words nor the challenge in the man’s eyes. He was daring him to say no, a dare hidden in a sparkle of excitement. Once more he felt the man’s beautiful eyes draw him in… But this time he wasn’t as easily enchanted. 

“And one of us is going to break a leg… I am not looking forward to that.” He tried to pull his hands back, his body nervous and hot, but Yuri did not give him an inch. The man simply grabbed his hands again to keep them where they were on his skin. 

“Stop complaining. You ready?”

“Yuri no! What the fuck!” 

But the man ignored him and pushed himself off the ground. It wasn’t like the enormous leaps Otabek had seen him jump before, but it still had him off guard. He had to scramble to brace himself. His upper arms straining from the weight he suddenly had to hold and the energy he had to direct to the ground, but he had to admit that Yuri was sort of right. It _did_ only take a few panic filled seconds. Still it was enough time to stumble and almost tripped over his own legs, Yuri’s landing also wasn’t smooth, but the man didn’t show, the grin on his face only becoming wider while Otabek’s heart now went in overdrive because of fear instead of what it had been before. 

“See that wasn’t that bad.” 

“For me it was damn it! Never do that again. You gave me a heart attack. I hope you never become a ballet teacher, you would traumatize those poor kids.” He glared at his friend, all his nerves, anxiety and shyness melting into anger fueled by fear. 

He wanted to shout at him. To ask him what would have happened if Otabek had dropped him and Yuri had broken a leg. Wouldn’t that have ended his career? Wouldn’t he have cared? But the words were stuck in his throat, caught by fear. Fear on one hand of Yuri’s reaction, and on the other of naming it, as if it would bring bad luck. He also didn’t want to think about what would have happened if it had happened. He didn’t think he would have ever forgiven himself. 

Yuri was oblivious however. The man simply laughed, stepping out of his hands while shaking his head. 

“Oh come on drama queen! You are stronger than you think! You could make it work with a bit of training, a bit of technique. If I didn’t think you could do it, I wouldn’t have tried. The best part was your face. The horror was amazing, too bad I couldn’t take a picture.”

He stopped speaking when he saw that the anger didn’t disappear from Otabek’s face, before reaching for his arm again squeezing gently. Making his skin tingle again, but the fear and anger didn’t disappear. “I am all right, Beka. I Really am. You are overreacting a bit. Relax a little.”

Otabek said nothing, but just lifted an eyebrow in response, which caused Yuri to sigh. 

“Ok fine! Sorry, it was dangerous and I will never do it again. And I lied.” He pouted. ”I am hurt.”

Panic took over for a second, but then Otabek realized that Yuri was playing with him as his sad pout faded and the smirk returned to his face. 

“You squeezed too damn hard. I am going to be bruised up all over.”

Otabek just gave him his best “I am so not amused” frown, but while he did he realized that what Yuri was doing hit the target. His fear and thus anger had melted away with the terrible joke, all that was left was him feeling completely done. He didn’t even hesitate before flipping the bird at him. Yuri was not impressed though, the man laughed loudly, then stuck out his tongue at him. 

It was too much. 

Just like that Otabek forgot every restriction and hesitation he had built in his mind and gave in to his sudden urge to run forward and tackle the man to the ground. But Yuri was too quick. The man let out a loud yelp, snatched his helmet of the ground in a fluid motion and sped away through the woods like a forest nymph, taking the time to taunt him with every step. Otabek was quick to chase, grabbing his helmet a bit more clumsily and following Yuri off the path and into the shrubbery. Their laughter echoing in the trees. 

For a moment it seemed as if Otabek’s dreams and reality had merged into one. Yuri led him along, jumping Grand Jetes, and shouting things over his shoulder to speed Otabek up. 

This was where it showed that they were in fact not dreaming. As Otabek flinched with worry every time Yuri jumped, having to bite his tongue not to warn Yuri to be careful on the uneven ground, while in his dreams Otabek never would. He just couldn’t help fearing that the man would stumble and fall, but when finally a warning slipped from his mouth, Yuri just laughed and sped up. He didn’t seem to care, moving as gracefully as he always did, his footing secure. The man led them through the woods, parallel to the path, to the lake they had been heading to before. Then hit the brakes meters from the water’s edge as sudden as he had started to run, and turned half a pirouette on his heels. Otabek had dig his feet deep into the ground to stop, but was too late. They ended up crashing slightly into each other, Otabek’s hand on Yuri’s waist to keep them standing. They did, but only just, their bodies pressing to each other, their faces only centimeters apart, their chests heaving. 

Some small voice in the back of his mind told Otabek that he should move, that they were too close. But he was frozen in place, hypnotized by Yuri’s gaze, which had locked itself into his the moment they weren’t in danger of falling anymore. Those eyes weren’t laughing. They held doubts, a flash of what Otabek could only describe as fear, and finally steely determination, all in a split second. Then Yuri moved unexpectedly, catching Otabek off guard. 

His hands were on Otabek’s shirt, pulling him close. Their lips suddenly pressed awkwardly together in a chaste kiss, before his hands slid into Otabek’s hair. Otabek stood frozen in surprise, his heart thumping fast and loud in his chest, his eyes wide. 

He didn’t know what to do or think, but his mind filled his thoughts for him. It noted how Yuri’s lips were nothing like Inkar’s. They weren’t gentle or following rules. They were passionate and fiery, and soft. Softer than he had ever felt before.

It made his head spin. It was so much sweeter than he ever thought a kiss could be. He wanted to react, to grab Yuri’s face, to let Yuri show him more. But that part of him was easily overpowered. The rest of his brain and body simply refused, reminding him that he wasn’t supposed to do that. There was too much chaos and conflict in his mind, it left him unable to think and his body close to limp. The only thing that was left for him to do was wait for Yuri’s next move, his hands centimeters from the man’s waist. 

Yuri kept kissing him for a moment or two longer, then disentangled his hands from Otabek’s hair and took a step back. He didn’t say a word but waited, his gaze calm, patient and regal, but the fact that he wasn’t proudly smiling or smirking told Otabek a lot. He wasn’t looking at the real Yuri but at his snow-queen mask. Otabek guessed that Yuri feared his anger and rejection, but he couldn’t be more wrong. He felt oddly detached from his own body, as if he suddenly did not know how to think anymore, which in itself was enough to make him panic. But when Yuri moved to step away further to give him space, he acted on instinct, clenching his hands on the man’s waist. Because one thing was for sure. He did not want the man to move. Ever. 

There was an odd sense of relief when Yuri finally smirked, then returned to close in, leaving his lips a few centimeters away from Otabek’s, his patient gaze hooked into his, his hands and arms resting on his shoulders. The warmth of his skin slowly seeping through Otabek’s shirt to his skin. 

Otabek just stood there, breathing in the scent and warmth of Yuri’s skin so close to his own, trying to catch his thoughts. They were elusive as they stood there out of breath next to the lake. It was as if every thought had evaporated, as if his wife didn’t exist anymore. It was just him and Yuri’s lips like a carrot on a stick for a donkey. He took a breath and closed his eyes, then opened them again when he felt Yuri’s hands clench on his arm. 

The uncertainty was back in those gorgeous eyes, and this time too big to hide. He could see that Yuri feared that he had made a horrible mistake, as Otabek feverishly tried to find a reason why he should kiss Yuri, as the reasons why he shouldn’t seemed endless. 

The answer the small voice in the back of his mind told him was so simple it shook him in its honesty. 

Because _he_ wanted it. 

Because it was _his_ choice. 

He took the bait with no further hesitation. His lips found Yuri’s again, pressing them to his in gentle, hesitant kisses that turned rough when Yuri nipped his lower lip. Tongues found tongues. Hands slipped up shirts, bodies rubbed against each other. His skin tingled where it touched Yuri’s. A delicious feeling that crept down his spine and made his groin harden to his surprise. So much surprise that a moan escaped him when he first felt it. It was molten lava in his blood. It had been so long since his body had felt like that when he touched someone else. And never before had it felt so breathtakingly good. For a moment, a very sweet moment, Otabek was back in his dreams, the dreams where it was just him and Yuri in the fields. Dreams where he had no fears nor hesitations. He felt incredibly happy almost intoxicated. Better than he had felt in years. 

Then Yuri’s hands were on his belt, crossing a line Otabek did not know he had, making everything crash down on him. He broke away as if stung while grabbing Yuri’s wrists in a reflex, squeezing them harder than he wanted to keep them away from his body as fast as he could. 

He didn’t know what up and down were anymore. The happy feeling that had crept into his body had turned ice cold. His lips swollen from kisses he had enjoyed but felt he shouldn’t and his stomach in knots, not from pleasure but from fear and panic. And shame. So much shame. Shame that he wasn’t stronger, that he couldn’t pull through. When he knew deep down that he wanted to. 

When he finally dared to meet Yuri’s questioning eyes, Otabek just shook his head. He could not tell Yuri why he was so distressed. His voice had left him the moment their lips had touched the first time. He could only watch Yuri’s reaction unfold like a rabbit watches a hawk. For a moment that seemed like it lasted hours, he was back on the couch with Inkar naked in his lap. With him telling her no and she demanding yes. He feared Yuri would do the same. That he would push and pester until he would submit. But he didn’t. 

Unlike his wife Yuri did not complain once. Instead he gently pried his hands loose and replaced them over Otabek’s shoulders, rubbing his back gently and shushing him. Enough for Otabek’s muscles to loosen a bit. Only then did Yuri move in for another, slower, kiss that made Otabek weak in the knees and allowed more of the tension to seep out. 

“I am sorry. I got carried away.” The man whispered in his ear when they broke away again. His voice slightly hoarse, his warm breath giving Otabek the best kind of shivers. Yuri noticed. Otabek could see the man grin as a cat that got the cream when he leaned his head on Otabek’s shoulder. It put him on edge again. 

“I felt your excitement down below and couldn’t really stop myself.” 

For a moment Otabek feared that he still wasn’t safe. That Yuri was just like Inkar after all, that he would push and probe at Otabek’s defenses again and again to get what he wanted. Using sweet talk and laughter to lull him into a false sense of security before striking like a cobra. He already felt panic and bile rise in his throat as he waited for Yuri to return his hands to his belt. 

But he was wrong. 

Yuri’s hands slid up instead of down, reaching up the back of his head to lightly scratch his scalp. Otabek felt like arching his neck to give him better access to enjoy his touches more. But he couldn’t. 

A heavy stone of guilt had dropped down on him to lay heavy in his stomach. He felt disgusted that he, even if it was only for a second for a second, had feared that Yuri would take advantage of him. It was Yuri he had been thinking about. Someone that had never hurt him before, who had stopped kissing him when he had sensed something wrong, and someone who just didn’t seem one for passive aggressive manipulation. 

If Yuri wanted something, he would simply demand it to his face. 

“I… I am sorry. I-I just don’t… I can’t. I…” 

Otabek bent his head in defeat. He couldn’t seem to find the words he wanted to say. There was so much frustration. Because he wanted to enjoy being with Yuri like that. He wanted to kiss and touch and explore Yuri like the man had him. He wanted to see where it would lead him. He wanted to laugh, to mess around. But he couldn’t. His mind was still too full of the voices that told him that he was a horrible person for kissing and touching someone he really wanted to kiss and touch, while his wife sat at home wondering where he was. That he was evil for cheating on the woman he was supposed to love, and that he was disgusting for feeling almost justified in doing it. But even with that voice being loud and bold he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t doing anything wrong, that she was just as much to blame. That she was just asking for him to cheat on her by not noticing how he felt or respecting his wishes, even though his rational mind told him that it was too easy to blame it all on her. That she was just retaliating for him not caring for her. 

Otabek swallowed to wet his throat and tried to speak again, his eyes still downcast, though his body had filled with angry tension, but Yuri shushed him before he could make a sound. The man tipped his head up to face him, a fire in his eyes as he hooked them in his. 

“Don’t you ever apologize Beka. If you don’t feel like doing something you tell the person involved. You’re a human being, not a fucking inflatable sex doll.” 

The words made him flinch, his anger deflating as if Yuri had pushed a pin in a balloon. Yuri was closer to the truth than the man could ever imagine, and it hurt, but Otabek didn’t want to admit it. He tried to make his answer sound annoyed, to treat Yuri’s remark as a joke and pretend that it wasn’t as bad, but the response when it finally got past his lips just sounded hollow, tiny and hurt. 

"Why do you make it sound like I would lay on my back and just passively would let you do your thing with me?" 

Yuri snorted, a sad smile on his face. The words he spoke harsh as a whip and painfully right. 

"Because you would. You would for someone you feel like you should be loyal to. You went along with my every whim so far. You stayed the night because my cat was sick for fucks sake, cleaning up vomit and offering to make breakfast. Look at us now: I am kissing you and crossing lines I shouldn’t have crossed, and still _YOU_ feel like you need to apologize to _ME_ . It’s ridiculous. You need to stop caring so much about others and start doing what you like. Because whoever it was that made you this tender and traumatized doesn’t fucking deserve it. They don’t deserve that power over you, and they don’t deserve for you to be miserable forever because of them. So tell me what do _you_ want us to do now?" 

“Why… Why do you think that someone..?” 

“Because I’ve had kisses like this before Otabek, quite a few of them in fact, girls and boys, younger and older. People get excited, shy, flustered or insecure. They step away or say stop or go full in, but never have I ever seen a reaction that I just saw, nor have I ever been in danger of losing a hand because I crossed a line. People have screamed and shouted, but never have I seen someone’s eyes go that cold and do that.” 

A flood of emotions threatened to take him under as Yuri spoke. His stomach churned, because he did not know what to say or how to answer his questions. He wasn’t used to people being so perceptive, he also wasn’t used to people asking what he wanted to do and meaning it. Usually he followed other people around and just did what they wanted him to do. Not blindly, but because he knew fighting for his voice would only make him tired and tense. 

He startled out of his thoughts when Yuri stroked his cheek, the angry having seeped out of the man’s eyes. 

“Do you want to go home?” 

Otabek knew he should. He could go home and forget that anything had ever happened, throw away Yuri’s number, hide in his house forever and start getting his wife pregnant. But whatever he wanted, he knew it wasn’t that. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself, it would never sit right with him. The question was when he would stop playing pretend. 

He lowered his head on Yuri’s shoulder instead of deciding, his arms slipping up from where they hung to Yuri’s side to circle his waist and pressing a hesitant kiss to the skin above his collarbone. Then did it again with a bit more confidence. 

“No. Home is the last place I want to be right now.” He mumbled. It hurt to admit it, but he knew it was the truth. 

A tranquility came over him as the words were out. He let his eyes flutter shut for a bit and took the time to just let the events go through his mind. To realize what he was doing and where he was. A moment to just stand still. To smell Yuri’s shampoo and body scent. He tensed a second when he felt Yuri shift, but relaxed again when he realized that he was just adjusting his arms to hold him. 

It felt safe. Safer than he had felt in years. 

He lifted his head again after a few minutes of calm bliss, and before he could hesitate grabbed Yuri’s face to kiss him again. A stream of lazy, chaste kisses that warmed him from the inside by how right it felt. Yuri seemed to agree. When Otabek tried to move away the man let out an annoyed whine, then tightened his grip on Otabek’s cheeks for a bit longer before finally letting go. They just stood there, grinning like happy fools next to the lake. Otabek only now seemed to notice where they were. He let his eyes wander over the peaceful, clear, lake. Their only companions a couple of swans and other waterfowl. 

“You okay?” 

Otabek returned his attention to Yuri and nodded. 

“Yeah, sorry. I had a mess of a week, and you caught me completely off guard and it all just exploded. Please don’t take it personal…” He flushed. “I really do like kissing you. I just… Like I said. Lot going on, and very little of it positive.” 

Yuri hummed. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he paused. “You know you can right?” 

But Otabek couldn’t. It would mean that he would shatter the fragile happiness and trust they had just build immediately by telling the truth. Because he knew that he wouldn’t be able to tell anything but the truth. He wanted it, but the risk of it meaning the end was too big. He didn’t want it to end, he didn’t want to lose Yuri as a friend… Or more. 

“I know… but I don’t want to. Not now. Not when it is still fresh and hurting me so bad. Just let me enjoy being here with you for a bit. I just want to forget.” 

He wanted to make a joke to lighten things up, to prove that he was doing fine. It wouldn’t come to him however. He didn’t want to joke or speak. He just wanted to cuddle and hide in Yuri’s arms. To be protected from the mess he was in. It would make him a coward, but it was all he wished for. 

“Want me to distract you?” 

“Please.” 

“Can I steal more kisses while doing so?” 

He looked up to Yuri’s smug grin and adorably flushed cheeks and laughed. A loud and honest laugh that he had thought he wasn’t able to do anymore. 

“What do you think?” 

“Good. Because I am addicted to them already. You know how to lead a man astray Beka.” 

He rolled his eyes as Yuri pressed a hand to his heart and pretended to be faint, then locked his arms around the man’s waist and lowered himself to the ground, pulling him with him, catching Yuri completely off guard. 

The man yelped in surprise, followed by a waterfall of Russian curses as they hit the ground. It hurt a bit, but as Otabek had already sprained some muscles with the lifting, and made sure Yuri landed in his lap instead of the ground, he couldn’t really care. Yuri did. He glared at Otabek like a vicious cat, but melted when Otabek pressed their lips together. Because Otabek couldn’t get enough of it, and Yuri had asked for more. 

"You’re the one leading me astray, siren." He mumbled without heat, snorting when Yuri theatrically slapped a hand in front of his mouth and gasped, then pressed his forehead against Otabek’s neck. “That and you give me heart attacks by demanding to be lifted. You’re terrible for my health.” 

"Me? How dare you!” Yuri chuckled. “My coach would have scolded me pretty seriously if she knew. Lifts are serious, very dangerous. You need to trust your partner, months and months of work. Never do unsupervised, Yuratchka” He had twisted his voice an octave higher and added a Russian accent ten times heavier than his own. Otabek couldn’t help but burst out laughing, he could imagine it all in his mind’s eye. 

“But she doesn’t know what kind of an adrenaline junkie you are.” He mumbled back, his hands rubbing the man’s back absentmindedly, tracing the muscles with his fingertips. “Leaving with strangers, jumping in the arms of a person that has never lifted a person in his life, kissing with an axe-murderer rapist. You have quite the reputation for being reckless.” 

A kiss to his jaw. 

“I can’t help that the axe murderer rapist is so hot and can kiss me breathless.” 

“Want me to try not to?” 

“No.” 

Yuri smirked at him, wiggling his eyebrows and licking his bottom lip slowly. Otabek snorted, letting himself fall back in the grass and his muscles relax. The sky was blue and seemingly endless, not a cloud in sight. He wondered what a bird would feel like up in there. 

He snapped out of that thought when he felt a weight settle on his stomach, then relaxed when he saw that Yuri had made himself comfortable there. His head rising and falling with Otabek’s breathing, his eyes closed. It made Otabek’s heart swell and his stomach explode with butterflies. His hands were itching to comb through Yuri’s hair, to lazily play with the strands. But he was hesitant. It all felt too fragile, too new. He did not know what he was allowed to do and what he wasn’t. And he was too scared of what a negative response would do to the fragile balance he had finally established in his mind. 

So they just stayed like that. Yuri’s eyes half lidded as he enjoyed the sunshine on his face, his alternating between the sky and Yuri. Sometimes his and Yuri’s gazes would cross, as Yuri seemed to try to check something about him. Yet when Otabek raised an eyebrow he would never ask, but pretend he never had looked. 

They stayed like that for a while, to the point that Otabek could feel himself almost drifting off to sleep, lulled by the warmth of the sun and Yuri’s body. It ended abruptly when Yuri moved, causing Otabek’s heart to skip a beat in irrational fear. As if some part of him still feared that Yuri would simply evaporate, like a dream, and take his peace with him. The man only changed position however, laying down next to him and nuzzling his collarbone, his hand drawing absentmindedly on his chest. Otabek didn’t even think. He slipped his fingers through the split in Yuri’s shirt in seconds, stroking his skin hesitantly, his breath stuck in his throat. But the man didn’t seemed to mind. 

If only they could’ve stayed like that forever. But the time was slipping away, no matter how hard he tried to grab it. The nagging voice demanded that he called it quits, that it was time to go home, but he pushed it away as a sleepy person would snooze an alarm. It stayed silent for fifteen minutes longer, Yuri’s fingers still on his shirt, his mind sinking deeper and deeper to slumber, until Yuri suddenly stopped. 

“Remember that thing about Mila?” the man asked hesitantly, his fingers fidgeting with Otabek’s shirt. 

“Hmm?” he answered, his eyes still closed, his fingers still stroking the man’s soft skin. 

“I am just worried. I know how harsh the ballet world can be. A lot of the time it is amazing, but the castings can be hell. I just worry that they will not want her anymore when she becomes anything but elegant. It’s her dream to be prima. She would be devastated… ” 

Otabek opened an eye and looked down. Yuri looked troubled as he kept plucking Otabek’s shirt. He couldn’t help but smile. He had been right. Yuri did care more about her then he wanted to show. 

“But doesn’t she know that world too? She will know the risk won’t she? You are probably being overprotective. Sweet, but overprotective.” 

He could see Yuri’s ears flush as he nuzzled his face in Otabek’s black shirt and groaned, which made him grin and find the courage to shift one hand to his soft golden hair and scratch his scalp lightly . Yuri seemed to melt, if he were a cat he would have purred, instead he let out a blissful moan that did all sorts of things with Otabek’s stomach. 

"I am going to fall asleep if we stay like this much longer." Yuri murmured eventually, his eyes fully closed, a wide yawn breaking his lips apart as he finished his sentence. 

"And it is-" This time Otabek was the one to yawn. "Rather late already." 

The moment the words left his lips he felt as if he had betrayed himself. The fragile wall he had put between the chaos and the peace just collapsed when he mentioned it. His stomach knotted, his muscles tightened. The very idea of going home and kissing Inkar on the cheek made him feel sick to his stomach. Yuri seemed to notice, as he pressed a kiss to his pulse. But even his touches couldn’t relax Otabek anymore. He was very close to asking if he could stay the night with Yuri, if not curled up with him in the sheets, then sleeping on his couch. But he knew it was a foolish thought. He needed space to think without Yuri around to cloud his judgement, and face his wife who was most likely waiting for him with dinner. But he didn’t know how to do either. 

“Time to go home.” Yuri sounded just as enthusiastic as he had, he too seemed to want to drag it out as long as he could. 

"Yeah... We should." 

Otabek’s words did nothing to reflect his mind screaming no at him, but he got up meekly after Yuri had without uttering a complaint. They went back into the trees, his mind threatening to cave down on him, but Yuri grabbed his hand before they could. Otabek didn’t know if he had sensed it coming or if the man had just wanted to hold his hand, but he was grateful. He squeezed gently to make it show, then grinned when he saw Yuri flush, even though his gaze stayed proud like a marching soldier. It kept Otabek’s thoughts at bay and his head held high. For a while it seemed as if he could survive anything…. Until they had to mount his motorcycle, and he had to break their hold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've freaking done it! I still am not 100% happy with it, but I am willing to settle. Also I’m very much done with this chapter after almost two weeks of editing. There is only so much nitpicking you can do before going completely insane. And I really wanted to post this before leaving town and leaving my laptop at home, so you could all with some nice angsty, cliché, fluff to keep you entertained while I'm working on the next chapter. 
> 
> I’ve noticed while writing this chapter, that this story is slowly growing quite a lot, which is quite funny to me because I thought I had finished months ago. To illustrate: this chapter was originally (and I mean like a year ago but two weeks ago it wasn't that much bigger) 2165 words, now after editing 5564…. It is also funny to me because at first I struggled to get 60000 words so I could have my chapters at least 2000 words long… and now I am almost at 86000 words, and I’m not even half way editing…. Whelp. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support, my mental health really has been quite the rollercoaster ride the last year or so, and with therapy and stuff there is a lot to think about. Sometimes everything is fine, and sometimes everything is hell. And because I give myself quite a lot of pressure while writing, it sort of accumulates while editing and posting. I've opted of not mentioning it at all. But really, I'm human. I also need to vent sometime, plus I feel like keeping you up to date because I know that one of the the worst things is being really into a fic and it suddenly stopping without explanation. Sorry if my venting bothers you, just skip the notes, I understand.
> 
> Thanks for your offer Staronet, I am not really interested in a Beta reader right now, because I feel like it will only add pressure, but if I decide otherwise I will let you know :). 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, hope you enjoyed and have a nice day~


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek didn’t know what was wrong with him. He felt a longing that was hard to shake off, but that he couldn’t seem to trust. He felt like he was acting like a fool. A fool about to make the worst mistake of his life if he were to throw it all away and follow Yuri home. That it was more about escaping Inkar then loving Yuri. The longing just felt so alien to him that it could only be a lie. He wasn’t in love. He couldn’t be. Not that suddenly. 
> 
> He couldn’t deny that they had kissed, nor deny that there had been some feelings involved. There had been care, but wasn’t it mostly all lust? How easily could he have faked lust to himself and mistaking it for care? Wasn’t Yuri not just simply a substitute to escape Inkar and the antipathy she brought with her? 
> 
> If Yuri had been someone else he would have acted the same right? He would have longed for them instead of Yuri… right? 
> 
> It had to be. Yuri had just caught him completely off guard, which had tricked him and muddied his judgement, which had been already fragile. The longing would fade in a few hours for sure and he would return to his proper place at his wife’s side. It was the only logical explanation.

Returning to Boston felt strange to Otabek.

It didn’t feel as if he was returning home. It felt more as if he was swapping worlds. As if the Otabek that kissed Yuri in the woods was different from the one that drove back with Yuri plastered to his back, who again was different from the Otabek that would kiss Inkar on the temple when he came home. 

As if the multiple versions of him fought to find their proper place again, the dutiful husband Otabek slowly taking over playful emotional Otabek and pushing him back in chains. It made him wonder which version of Otabek was real, as he felt himself slowly but surely settle back in the tense ill-fitting skin “home” expected off him. He never realized how natural and stressful it was to him, until the process was momentarily shattered by a last sweet kiss goodbye he shared with Yuri.

The man smiled tenderly as they separated, his hands warm on Otabek’s cheeks as he pressed to his heart that everything would get better as long as he didn’t think too much about it. Yuri didn’t realized how much those words calmed him, just as the promise that he would text. But still it did nothing to ease their goodbye. 

Otabek watched the man walk away as elegantly as ever, the sinking sun adding a glow to the man’s pale skin, with chaos in his mind. They had been in that same situation before. But never had Otabek felt as alone as he felt when he watched the man go, though none of it showed on his face. And he was glad of it as the man looked at him over his shoulder one last time before he cut the corner, leaving Otabek torn to pieces. 

Once more he felt a tug to his body, an intense desire to run after him and extend the day they spend together even more. To talk. To steal some more kisses. To perhaps even take the next step. To touch, to make love. To wake up next to the beautiful man in the morning. Skin pressed to skin with a smile on his face. He wondered once again why he was stopping himself. It seemed so easy to just _go_. To take a risk. To live a little. 

No guts no glory right? 

But rational, dutiful Otabek pulled back harder than emotional Otabek could and forced him to start the engine and leave. It was a reminder that he was going fast…. Too fast. Otabek didn’t know what was wrong with him. He felt a longing that was hard to shake off, but that he couldn’t seem to trust. He felt like he was acting like a fool. A fool about to make the worst mistake of his life if he were to throw it all away and follow Yuri home. That it was more about escaping Inkar then loving Yuri. The longing just felt so alien to him that it could only be a lie. He wasn’t in love. He couldn’t be. Not that suddenly. 

He couldn’t deny that they had kissed, nor deny that there had been some feelings involved. There had been care, but wasn’t it mostly all lust? How easily could he have faked lust to himself and mistaking it for care? Wasn’t Yuri not just simply a substitute to escape Inkar and the antipathy she brought with her? 

If Yuri had been someone else he would have acted the same right? He would have longed for them instead of Yuri… right? 

It had to be. Yuri had just caught him completely off guard, which had tricked him and muddied his judgement, which had been already fragile. The longing would fade in a few hours for sure and he would return to his proper place at his wife’s side. It was the only logical explanation.

But the logical didn’t sit well with him. It spoke with Inkar’s gentle voice, while his was chained in the background, screaming unintelligible words on top of its lungs. He didn’t know what to do with the confusion. So it the end he just did the easiest thing as he parked his motorcycle. 

He listened to Yuri’s advice and gave up on thinking. 

Then took the steps to his front door as slowly as he could, but they were over way to soon. 

Inkar welcomed him with a broad smile, a kiss on the cheek and a table laden with food. She was happy, singing tunes under her breath while placing the last things on the table, her body swaying to the rhythm. It was an odd sight, like a memory of a former life. A life far behind him, one he should have contested, but Otabek was tired, and not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth, so he let it slide. 

He tried to settle back in with her as well as he could, encouraging her to talk, eating her food and kissing her back when she kissed him sweetly with a smile on her face. But his mind kept bouncing back to Yuri in little flashes of memory. Of how much softer the man’s lips had been, of how his skin had felt under his fingertips. 

The longing clung to him with claws and teeth no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that is was nothing. It followed him the whole evening and the days after, from his waking into his dreams, turning peaceful sleep into steamy nights. Every dream he would chase Yuri through the woods again, and every night he would catch him and topple them to the ground, their bodies pressed together. Then make the other decision. He would kiss Yuri. His lips, his stomach, lower. His fingers would wander over pale skin, tracing lines and muscles, exploring every inch in utter concentration to find out what would make the man squirm and what sigh in utter delight. 

The images his mind produced managed to make him blush in his waking hours, as the sleep receded and left a tight stomach and a fever in his blood behind. The first night he tried to ignore it and jumped under a freezing shower, forcing his body into submission, even when he felt wrong in doing it. The second morning he glanced at the bathroom door, but instead closed his eyes and let his hand trail hesitantly down his body when he was certain that Inkar had already left for the day. All the while the voice in the back of his mind screamed at him, but his own voice shouted louder, as his stomach grew tight with nerves and anticipation before pleasure washed over him. By the third time he woke up with no restrictions left, only desire.

By the fourth day the fever had turned so high that he was able to pleasure his wife with little hesitations even though it wasn’t intentional. 

He had been half asleep. The dream had still been real in his mind when he rubbed up against her to her utter surprise and delight. The act itself was surreal. Even though Inkar was the one that took charge they still seemed to meet each other halfway for the first time in months. Otabek by showing initiative, and Inkar by being willing to use a condom. It seemed almost as it should have been, as a regular husband and wife would be intimate, but Otabek’s mind was somewhere else. 

His eyes stayed closed as he kissed and touched her a bit more fervently and rougher then he usually would. He didn’t dare to look at her, too desperate to keep his imagination intact. But the Illusion just wouldn’t stick as well as in his dreams. Her moans were too high pitched, her touches and kisses lacked something. It just felt as a pale comparison. But he had to get the fever out. No matter if the person in bed with him wasn’t the one he wanted, or no matter how bad he felt about it. 

Because he did. He felt as if he betrayed himself and her. Himself for not being stronger and her for letting her believe that they were doing well together. 

But it wasn’t until they were both on their back on the sheets, a thin layer of sweat on their skin, and their chests heaving, that the weight of his foolishness crashed down on him in all reality.

What had he been thinking? 

He had been so struck by how different Yuri had been when they kissed and now he tried to fool himself into believing Inkar was him. He had hoped his deal with the devil would give him release. 

But in reality it just made him feel cold and empty, before the longing returned stronger but in a different form. 

He was disheartened and angry with himself that he really had thought that laying with his wife would still his hunger, when he had never succeeded in the years they had been together. In his defense he had never felt like anything like it before, but it was stupid to think it would work. In the end he wanted to be with Yuri even more, not just to have the need disappear. He also just wanted to curl up against him and cry. Cry ugly, ugly tears until he had none left. 

From that moment on the sexual longing had disappeared completely. He couldn’t even think or dream of it without the moments with Inkar bleeding into it and making him feel sick to his stomach. 

_Don’t think too much about it…_

He had to remind himself multiple times that week even though it was from that moment on more about Inkar then Yuri. Either way it worked. Every moment his mind threatened to wander or drag him down he would violently wrench it back to the little things. Forced himself to remind the smiles that got stuck to his face when he read Yuri’s texts in the morning. Or the warm bubbly feeling he got when he saw a couple of lovebirds walk into the store the day after the incident with Inkar, with their curly furred dog on a leash. Their bodies leaning in close when they looked at the books, goofy smiles on their faces, reminding him of Yuri’s sweet kisses goodbye. The sight should perhaps have made him feel envious, as the two flaunted their affection where he couldn’t, but it didn’t. Instead it banished the cold sick feeling from his stomach and made his heart flutter. He felt a need to thank them but never did, as it seemed odd to do so. Instead he watched them go as they left. 

Things did go uphill from that either way. His thoughts just came easier. No longer were they focused on Yuri’s body, or his marriage as they had been before, but on happier thoughts. He would focus on what he thought Yuri would be doing. What would make him smile, or frown or grumble as the day progressed? He imagined him buying that sugar bomb coffee of his as he went to work, imagined how the muscles he had felt under the skin of his back would move as he stretched to prepare for his practices and wondered how good the weather would be for a catnap in the grass. And once he had started those thoughts they wouldn’t stop. It became so obvious that he got remarks from his boss and smiling kisses from Inkar. Because he looked so happy, and they were so glad to see him perk up. 

It made him wonder for a second how he usually looked to them. Why did they never say something if they had noticed that he felt awful? But those questions were quickly discarded in favor of more memories of Yuri. 

But no matter how positively the idea and memories of Yuri affected him, he couldn’t stop discarding it as basic escapism. Anything but love. As the pressure of returning back to normal, of becoming a good husband, as he had promised himself and Inkar, stuck just as bad. 

He kept trying to be blind to his feelings. As blind as he had always tried to be when something like it showed itself. To be blind to the longing in his heart. The longing to kiss Yuri on the shoulder with his arms wrapped tight, and fall asleep in those puffy blankets of his. To wake up next to him and to repeat it all again. Instead he found himself spooned up against Inkar every morning, which felt as a punch in the gut. It was torture. Pure torture in which he longed for the blissful moments of half sleep in which he did not know where or who he was but everything felt right. 

By Friday morning he had become restless. He found himself staring at the ceiling in silence. The alarm clock on his bed stand read four am. The room was still quiet and covered in darkness and Inkar was sound asleep next to him, her breathing even against his skin, her head leaning on his arm.

He should have been just as deeply asleep, but instead he was thinking. His head felt too full not to, full with memories, scents and sounds, dreams, reality and regrets. All kind of things he really wanted to push away, but found he couldn’t. 

For days the voice in the back of his mind had tried to convince himself that Yuri was just a toy. That he was a punishment to test his resolve and strength, that there wasn’t any love between them. That he was nothing more than a succubus. He had clung to those ideas at first, like a shipwrecked sailor would do to driftwood. But his resolve was eroding and more and more often he had felt himself wondering if it was that bad to fail the test. He knew that Inkar wasn’t a good comparison after all. Why was he trying to believe things he never had believed in the first place? 

For whom exactly was he trying to stay blind? 

That Friday morning at nine AM, after a short night of dreaming of kissing and cuddling an imaginary Yuri till his body felt light and his stomach filled with butterflies, he just stopped. With a delirious smile on his face, shaking his head at his own foolishness and attempts of denying the truth. 

The truth that he had hopelessly and endlessly fallen in love with Yuri Plisetsky. 

Once he admitted it time just seemed to fly past, even if it really didn’t. It probably was because he was jittery with nerves and felt rushed in everything he did. And apparently it showed. Inkar laughed at him from where she stood kneading dough at the kitchen counter, shaking her head at him, then kissed him with a tender love when Otabek slid behind her to get something from the fridge. Otabek accepted it like a child whose mother tried to clean his face when he could be playing. She seemed to notice. Her smile fading to a frown, but before she could ask he had kissed her again. A bit more earnest this time around, but there was only so much he could fake. It proved enough for her either way. 

It was strange how much could change with a single thought. As if admitting that he was in love with Yuri had emphasized it, had made the world a little brighter. His problems with Inkar seemed less important somehow, or the voice that shouted about them seemed less influential compared to his own. Whatever it was, it left him with nerves and wonder. What would happen if Yuri and he would meet after a week? Would they kiss? Would it be awkward? Had Yuri changed his mind? 

None of the texts exchanged between them had hinted at that, but on the other hand there were no passionate declarations of love either, not that Otabek had expected them. They had been just… normal. As if they had never kissed. It had made Otabek wonder if they had ever had or that he had dreamed it. But the memories of their lips pressed together were just to vivid for it to have been his imagination. Still Otabek was practically dying of a mixture of nerves and excited anticipation when he rolled up to their usual meeting spot. Yuri was already waiting against the wall, his hair down, a plain white shirt on his shoulders instead of the more revealing tank tops. He spotted Otabek Instantly. The smile on his face more radiant then the sun. 

All Otabek’s fears seemed to have been for nothing. His heart skipped a beat as his stomach exploded in butterflies as he killed the engine. 

The man had his arms wrapped around his neck the second Otabek took off his helmet, his pale fingers threading his hair. They were kissing only a split second later, Yuri’s lips moving with his in a slow tender movement that warmed Otabek’s body from the inside. His hands slipped into Yuri’s pale hair not much later, weaving the incredibly soft strands together as he met the man kiss for kiss. 

It felt as if a weight had dropped off his shoulders, his anxiety melting away. Otabek hadn’t realized how afraid he had been until it had left him. Now he just wanted to kiss Yuri breathless, to deepen the kiss and pull him close in his arms in the hope that the man would squeeze him tight. 

Instead he slowed down, because they were in public, and on the other hand because he didn’t really want to show how greedy he was, just in case the man would hate it. Not that Yuri showed any sign of it, in fact Otabek was almost sure nothing of it had seeped through. 

Still Otabek held back. He wanted to kiss like that for hours, but the gazes of passerby’s made him hesitate. Some were fleeting, others piercing and long, some were probably filled with compassion others with disgust. Whatever the case was it didn’t matter, they all made him equally nervous. All made his face flush in embarrassment, his heart stutter in fear, and his lips retreat. Yuri on the other hand was unfazed, meeting their gaze with his ice queen mask when Otabek had broken the kiss, making them hide their faces and move by a little faster. Then watched them go with a pleased proud smirk on his face before returning his attention to Otabek. 

“Hi” The man finally mumbled, grinning like a cat that got the cream, now that other people weren’t distracting him anymore. 

“Hi.” Otabek replied, the blush still high on his cheeks but with a grin on his face to match. “That was…. I…” 

He didn’t know what else to say, so he just shook his head and held up Yuri’s helmet before motioning to the back. 

“Ready to go?” 

The man had already snatched the helmet before the last word had left his mouth and mounted the motorcycle in one fluid motion. His arms slipped over Otabek’s shoulder as his forehead leaned against his back. 

“Where are we going?” 

Otabek smiled, cherishing the warmth of Yuri’s body against his own, taking the time to take it all in as he pretended to think, just to delay a little bit. 

“I wanted to go for another ride.” He finally said as he put his helmet back on. His body relaxing when Yuri didn’t move as soon as he had expected. “But the forecast says it’s going to pour. So yeah. I would not want you to get sick during rehearsals, and it’s not the safest weather for bikes in the first place. So… You in to go into town instead?”

Yuri mumbled an agreement and moved, putting on his helmet and moving his arms to Otabek’s waist. It seemed as if it were to be another normal ride. But Otabek was mistaken. Yuri wouldn’t sit still when they took off. 

He was fidgeting, drawing things on Otabek’s shirt or shifting his body almost every minute. It came to the point that Otabek became hyperaware of their bodies moving together, the thoughts he had thought had been destroyed forever by his misstep with Inkar re-awakening from their slumber. It added a difficulty level to driving, as he struggled to keep his mind on the road and not on how Yuri’s body heat seemingly seared his skin, or the question of how their bodies would feel together if he were to take them to Yuri’s apartment instead. Where he had been relaxed and loose-limbed a moment ago he now felt as if every muscle was tight in anticipation for the next touch, and the next and the next. He was very glad that the drive to the city center was so short that he couldn’t do something stupid and embarrass himself, like moan. As he could only imagine Yuri’s smug face when he did. 

Because no matter how badly he wanted to convince himself that Yuri was oblivious to how he was torturing him. That it was just him being impatient, he couldn’t help but question it. As the man’s touches went further than just a bit of drawing. His hands were on Otabek’s shoulders, his upper arm’s his neck. They were light fleeting touches, but firmly and confident enough that Otabek couldn’t imagine them being anything else then teases. They spoke of a man that knew what for effect he had on him instead of one that was nervous, or just innocently playing. Yet when Otabek threw him a look over his shoulder he was met with a blank, angelic face with eyebrows raised in question, his hands suddenly still. Only for him to start again when Otabek focused back on the road, using more pressure turning it to a massage, to the point that Otabek had to bite his tongue to keep himself from melting and moaning like an idiot, his eyes pointed to the sky. To call it distracting was an understatement.

For once. Just once, he wished that he actually was religious and could ask for some god’s strength to endure the torture Yuri was putting him through. But with his track record he was pretty sure that none of them would listen even if he tried, so he was left at the mercy of the ruthless tease at his back. Still he couldn’t stop himself from muttering a prayer in Kazakh under his breath for his body not to react and for his passenger to stay still, but he found that no one had control over Yuri. Not even the gods. 

The man just kept going, moving his hands even further to splay them on his chest, scratching his nails over the fabric of his shirt. At that point Otabek was certain that Yuri was being a devilish tease. 

Or just wished to touch him as much as Otabek wanted to touch Yuri. 

But no matter how curious he was to find out, he would not. Their drive had come to an end sooner then he would get an answer, and even though it was disappointed he still thanked god for it. For he had no clue how much longer his willpower would have lasted, and he preferred an unanswered question over losing control and crying out. To avoid that he parked at the first possible moment, near a park and harbor a short walk away from the busiest streets. But relief didn’t come instantly. Where he had expected Yuri to jump off, excited to stretch his legs again, he was fooled. Yuri took his sweet time, stretching his back while seated and humming as he felt the gentle sea breeze that blew from the harbor on his skin, before he finally dismounted. Slowly, like a cat, making sure to brush against Otabek’s body in a way that was just too convenient to be anything but a tease. 

Otabek watched it while rolling his eyes. Yuri just had to be kidding him. Yet when he crossed eyes with the man and rose an eyebrow he was met with the same angelic blank face as earlier, even though Otabek could swear he saw the mischievous twinkle within though very well hidden. It had him shake his head in disbelief. 

Yuri knew how to play games. Dangerous games. Their match had ended in a draw, but he decided at that moment that not only Yuri’s aura but also his acting skills were a force to be reckoned with. 

Not that he told him that. 

“Want to go get ice cream?” he asked, as he took of his helmet and swung his leg over the seat. 

“Sure.”

The streets filled with people as they crossed and entered the shopping district, but it wasn’t as busy as Otabek supposed it could have been. Which wasn’t surprising, as it was a workday and the weather wasn’t to write home about. It was cloudy and a strong chilly sea breeze had popped up in the time they had driven down. Still, people were having lunch at the many little restaurants or had a sandwich on the stone borders around the planted trees just the same. They were chatting, shopping, smoking, eating, and laughing. Living their lives and filling the air with a vibrant energy, which, combined with the distance between him and Yuri, helped Otabek slow down and relax. The anticipation and nerves just leaked out of his body as he listened to Yuri talk about his week. He felt almost like he had in his dreams, light and happy and as if he could conquer the world. 

Until Yuri suddenly grabbed his hand and froze him up as a deer in the headlights. It was an instinctive reaction, one he couldn’t understand himself. It made his mind cascade into chaos as the warmth of the man’s skin against his own felt amazing to the point that he did not ever want to let go. But every glance of a person in their direction made him mentally flinch, and every two steps he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder. All to see if he recognized someone who could possibly snitch him out to Inkar. It was stupid, and he knew that. There lived thousands and thousands of people in Boston, and the few he knew were probably at work or in the mosque. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling of alarm or stop looking over his shoulder. Even though he felt an incredible frustration build in the pit of his stomach every time he did, sitting right next to the nervous fear. 

Because suddenly his life revolved around his wife again. Until that point he had completely forgotten all about his Inkar. She had been completely erased as if she was never born. But then, with his hand in Yuri’s everything had crashed down and the incredible urge of hiding overwhelmed him. As if he was doing something sinful. 

And Yuri noticed. 

For a few minutes the man acted as if it didn’t affect him, but then dropped Otabek’s hand as suddenly as he had grabbed it.

Otabek’s heart felt as if it had been dropped out of an airplane. He immediately whipped his head around to catch Yuri’s gaze, but the man looked away as if he didn’t notice. His face carefully composed and focused on the windows of the shops, but the storm of emotion in his beautiful blue green eyes seeped through in his reflection. Anger. Confusion. Sadness. Pain. It swirled and mixed to form a coldness that Yuri couldn’t hide. That together with the lack of touch chilled Otabek deeper than the swelling sea breeze could. 

The man just stared ahead of him as they walked. His eyes on the horizon and his head held high. But he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended. He too shivered, the wind no match for the unexpected breeze. Yet while his pale arms were ridden with goose flesh and his teeth were close to clattering, the man still kept staring in front of him, a bitter coldness in his eyes that stunned Otabek into silence. He tried to find the words to apologize, tried to find the courage to grab his hand but couldn’t. And even if he had been able to, he wouldn’t have been able to reach them, as Yuri had crossed his arms over his chest, rubbing them in an attempt to warm his skin. 

For a moment or so it felt as if a gorge had opened between them. As if they didn’t know each other. As if they just were two strangers walking beside each other in silence. Until Yuri seemed to swallow his hurt and pride and started to talk again, seemingly ignoring what had just happened between them. Not that the man was capable of getting the disappointment out of his voice and movement. He also seemed unable to stop rubbing his skin. Whether it was because of the cold or fidgetiness Otabek couldn’t tell, as Yuri still would not face him. Not until Otabek bit the bullet and shrugged off his leather jacket to drape over Yuri’s shoulder without meaning to interrupt the man’s story.   
But he couldn’t. 

The man stared at him as he moved, his voice faltering mid-sentence, before he came to a sudden standstill. But he never stopped Otabek. He just stood there, looking from his now covered arms to the thin black tee-shirt Otabek had left. Otabek could just see the calculation’s going on in the man’s squinted eyes. As if he was wondering what Otabek’s action meant, and what he would do next. Yet eventually, after a few more suspicious glances the man surrendered with an annoyed huff. 

Otabek could see that Yuri tried to keep hold of his anger as they went back to walking, but it evaporated quickly, his face reddening as he snuggled in the collar. A blush that deepened when Otabek zipped it up and, before the courage could leave him, brushed with a knuckle over Yuri’s cheekbone as he mumbled an apology. He still didn’t know how to explain why he reacted like he had without saying too much, so he didn’t. Instead he just kept his distance again as they started to walk. His heart was racing in his chest from fear, and he had to take a deliberate effort to keep his eyes ahead of him instead of anxiously scanning the surroundings to see if anyone had seen them. But he kept his eyes ahead, reminding himself to breath that he was overreacting, and that everything would be fine. 

It was hard to fight, but worth it. As every time he did not look behind him, he could look to the side of him, where Yuri had made himself at home in his jacket, with the collar up to his nose and the sleeves pulled over his hands in little sweater paws. It was more than enough to remind him why he was doing what he did, and why he couldn’t give up easily. 

Yet still if he did his best not to hurt Yuri even further, he seemed unable to mend it. They still walked with more space between them then Otabek liked, and even though Yuri seemed to be less mad he still looked sad when Otabek looked at him from the corner of his eye. Everything in him was screaming to just go for it. To just close the gap by reaching for Yuri’s hand as it swung by his side. But every time he attempted to try his paranoid mind would note something in the corner of his eyes.

A gaze directed at them. A face that looked familiar somehow. 

Never something that proved that he was in danger of being found out, but enough to have his mind recoil back into a scared ball. So after a few attempts he just gave up stopped trying, feeling frustrated but content with knowing that Yuri wasn’t as angry with him anymore.

It was a huge sense of relief. Just accepting that he wasn’t ready to hold Yuri’s hand in public and knowing that Yuri wasn’t too mad about it was enough to allow Otabek’s muscles to relax as they walked the streets. Ice cream had lost its appeal in the cold, so they strolled around a bit instead, entering and exiting shops without buying anything. 

Otabek watched as Yuri looked at cosmetics, testing lipsticks and powders on the skin of his wrists with so much care and scrutiny that it made Otabek smile. A smile that widened even more and became a chuckle when Yuri suddenly grabbed _his_ hand to make a swatch of color on his skin, tilting it to see the color change slightly in the light, a frown on his face, before nodding approvingly and putting the tube back. Otabek thought that he was released but as they were about to walk away, Yuri turned on his heels and grabbed the tube again, adding another little line and a curve to make a smiley. Then grinned like an idiot when Otabek rolled his eyes while holding back laughter, but glad that the air was cleared. 

Otabek wore that little colored smiley with pride as they walked out of the store and into the next, glancing at it every so often. Remembering the care with which Yuri had held his wrist with butterflies in his stomach. 

They spent hours like that, moving from shop to shop checking out clothing, food and books while telling stories and cracking jokes. Until their feet started to hurt and they decided to sit down with a hotdog under a pergola covered in hanging plants overlooking the harbor. They sat there just talking and eating under a sky that became more and more cloudy and gray. 

The clouds had been coming in during the day but neither of them had really noticed. Until that point. When Yuri took a look up into the sky and let out a loud and annoyed groan in between bites. 

“Really?” he groaned, his mouth full of hot dog. “If we get soaked again.” He added when his mouth was close to empty. “I swear to god I am going to scr-.” 

It was as if the gods had heard him. The words had not even left his mouth when the clouds just burst, dumping a sheet of water on them without warning. The fat drops soaked Otabek through in seconds, the leaves of the hanging plants providing little coverage. But his eyes were on the man next to him. 

Yuri looked beyond pissed. His eyes were closed for a moment as the water soaked through his hair and dripped down his face. When Otabek opened his mouth to ask if he was okay the man just rose a finger of one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. Then took a few deep breaths. 

It didn’t help. 

The arms were up in the air seconds later, the leftovers of his hotdog bun flying through the air to land on the wet pavement, prey to a flock of pigeons that hurried to get to it. 

“Oh. Come. On!” Yuri finally yelled as he dramatically spun on his heels to face the pigeons that had flocked around the discarded bread, not bothered at all by the weather. “WHY!” 

Otabek was folded over in laughter in the meanwhile, the view of Yuri demanding an answer from a couple of pigeons just had him in hysterics, no glare of Yuri could have changed that. And Yuri knew, not that it meant that he didn’t try. Because he did. If glaring daggers was an actual thing Otabek would have been dead. The man only stopped glaring after a minute or so, adding a slow roll of his eyes before dumping himself back next to Otabek on the wooden bench.

“What is this with our luck?” He asked with exhaustion in his voice, as he sagged down dramatically and stared at the clouds. 

“The gods just want to give you a stage for your dramatics.” Otabek answered, then couldn’t help but press a kiss to Yuri’s suddenly appearing middle finger. Yuri just glared at him in return, probably waiting for him to apologize. But Otabek didn’t. He jumped up instead before dragging a loudly groaning Yuri to his feet and into the rain. 

If Otabek’s shirt hadn’t been soaked through before it was now. The water slid down his body in little streams, the water clogged fabric clinging to his skin. But while a smart person might have ran for shelter, like so many people beside them had, Otabek didn’t. It wasn’t as if they could get wetter than they already had, and he was having too much fun. So instead of taking off towards the shops, he took off into the other direction, running down the gravel path under the pergola, with Yuri at an arm length behind him sprinting to keep up. 

They ran around like maniacs with Otabek up front. Chasing each other, jumping in puddles and pools of mud and dancing in the rain as if they were in a movie or a musical. At first it seemed as if Otabek was going to be the only one to be cold and wet, as Yuri still had the leather jacket on, but after a badly sung song or two the man suddenly stood in place and took it off. Telling him it wouldn’t have been fair otherwise, then jumped on Otabek’s back for a few steps until his weight became too much for him to hold. 

They laughed. Loud, honest laughter that attracted stares from people who were probably wondering if they had gone mad.

This time Otabek couldn’t care less however. He was having too much fun and was too sucked into Yuri’s aura. Especially as his clothes also started to cling to his body, making it easy to imagine what the man looked like underneath, especially with his shirt. The white fabric hid nothing having become almost see through. 

It was very hard not to stare. One reason for it was that Yuri would have attracted stares from anyone. He just looked that hot. The other was that Yuri had no hesitation to check Otabek out just as shamelessly and thoroughly, a heat in his eyes that seemed to match the heat that Otabek felt in his blood. 

And Yuri knew. 

One shared look was enough, but neither of them seemed to dare voice the sparks they both seemed to be able to feel flying. But Otabek felt it. Every time Yuri’s fingers would brush over his skin, his heart would skip a beat. Every time their gazes would meet, Yuri’s filled with mischief and desire as he bit his bottom lip, would make Otabek’s breath hitch and his stomach tighten in need. The need to touch, the need to kiss. Otabek didn’t know what he would have done if they hadn’t been in public. But for now he held his distance, looking at Yuri as he jumped and danced in the rain. 

He could have spent hours like that, his body warmed despite the water and breeze, but when Yuri looked up to the endless gray rainclouds and suggested to go to his place to get dry and warm up, his hand on his shoulder and his lips close to his ear, Otabek went without protest. The invitation in the man’s eyes more than clear. 

If he had been a little less far gone he would perhaps have halted to think it through, to make a different decision, but he was caught in Yuri’s spell. A spell that had a tendril of warmth circling his spine down to his groin. He wasn’t thinking with his head anymore. All caution had flown out of the window when he had met the man’s eyes. Then when the man settled behind him, his body draped over his, and his breath hitting the sweet spot behind Otabek’s ear as he asked him to hurry up, Otabek knew. 

Knew that the gods had forsaken him. That the only thing standing between him and Yuri was his own hesitations and conscience, and neither of them showed any indication of returning anytime soon. It was between them now. And Otabek couldn’t wait. He needed all his discipline not to moan in bliss or pull over to haul Yuri to his mouth to show him just how badly he wanted to touch him and prove to the him, and perhaps also to himself, that he had no intent of stopping this time around. 

But he held it together. Not that it wasn’t straight hell. 

It became harder by the second. Where Otabek tried his best to control himself for as long as he could, Yuri seemed to have no such restrictions. Nor shame. The man proved to be just as touchy as he had been hours before. He stroked and kneaded Otabek’s body shamelessly from his seat behind him, his fingers dipping every so often below the belt, his lower body rubbing against Otabek’s ass. It was casual enough that anyone looking from the side wouldn’t have noticed it, but obvious enough that Otabek couldn’t keep all curses locked in his throat. He knew that if he looked behind him he would see a siren’s grin, devious and tempting, but he didn’t dare. 

He just wanted to go. To speed up to get the hell over with. But no matter how badly he wanted to, he kept his speed under the limit. 

The last thing he needed at that moment was to face a police officer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while but I am back! And to my surprise this story has surpassed 1000 hits, I never thought that to have been possible. I had hoped for 100 hits and perhaps 10 subscriptions, because that was what I was used to when I posted on another site, but this is amazing, thank you all so much. 
> 
> I do have some bad news though. I had hoped that during these past few months I would have been able to post the entire story, but it just proves to be more work than I imagined, much more. I went from editing two chapters in a week to taking two weeks to edit one chapter, and by editing I mean several hours a day editing. Don’t get me wrong, I love doing it, but the thing is: I won’t be able to keep it up while also doing a master. The next chapter might still be up in two weeks, but the ones after that might take considerably longer, perhaps even a month at a time. I hope it doesn’t, because if it does I means that I am not taking care of myself but invest everything in studies, and that would mean that I will probably end up with my mental health being terrible, but it is a possibility. I know that you all told me that education comes first and stuff, but I still wanted to let you know so I don’t just disappear. It might be that I post some short stories that I have almost finished in between chapters to compensate, but that really depends on the time I have. I’m sure you all understand.
> 
> That all being said I hoped you enjoyed this chapter and have a nice day/evening!


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